as somewhat of a silent
and morose animal, and, as little Scoutbush confided to Mellot, there
was no getting a rise out of him. All which Lucia saw as keenly as any
one, and tried to pass off by chattering nervously and fussily for him,
as well as for herself; whereby she only made him the more cross, for he
could not the least understand her argument--"Why, my dear, if you don't
talk to people, I must!"

"But why should people be talked to?"

"Because they like it, and expect it!"

"The more foolish they. Much better to hold their tongues and think."

"Or read your poetry, I suppose?" And then would begin a squabble.

Meanwhile there was one, at least, of the party, who was watching Lucia
with most deep and painful interest. Lord Scoutbush was too busy with
his own comforts, especially with his fishing, to think much of this
moroseness of Elsley's. "If he suited Lucia, very well. His taste and
hers differed: but it was her concern, not his"--was a very easy way of
freeing himself from all anxiety on the matter: but not so with Major
Campbell. He saw all this; and knew enough of human nature to suspect
that the self-seeking which showed as moroseness in company, might show
as downright bad temper in private. Longing to know more of Elsley, if
possible, to guide and help him, he tried to be intimate with him, as he
had tried at Aberalva; paid him court, asked his opinion, talked to him
on all subjects which he thought would interest him. His conclusion was
more favourable to Elsley's head than to his heart. He saw that Elsley
was vain, and liked his attentions; and that lowered him in his eyes:
but he saw too that Elsley shrank from him; at first he thought it
pride, but he soon found that it was fear; and that lowered him still
more in his eyes.

Perhaps Campbell was too hard on the poet: but his own purity itself
told against Elsley. "Who am I, that any one should be afraid of me,
unless they have done something wrong?" So, with his dark suspicions
roused, he watched intently every word and every tone of Elsley's to his
wife; and here he came to a more unpleasant conclusion still. He saw
that they were, sometimes at least, not happy together; and from this he
took for granted, too hastily, that they were never happy together; that
Lucia was an utterly ill-used person; that Elsley was a bad fellow, who
ill-treated her: and a black and awful indignation against the man grew
up within him; all the more fierce becaus