of our youth, when the most commonplace incidents
came upon us with freshness, and we gloried in the thought of having a
"part," an actual character to play, in that grand drama they call the
World.

We would not, if we could, recall his story; we could not hope that our
reader would listen as pleasurably as did Heathcote to it; enough that
we say they never felt the miles go over, nor, till their journey
was ended, had a thought that they were already arrived at their
destination.

CHAPTER XXIX. OLD LETTERS

The little cottage at Port-na-Whapple, to which Alfred Lay-ton had
repaired to collect the last few relics of his poor mother, had so
completely satisfied all his longings for quiet seclusion, that
he lingered on there in a sort of dreamy abstractedness far from
unpleasing. Quackinboss was with him, but never was there a companion
less obtrusive. The honest American delighted in the spot; he was a
fisherman, and soon became acquainted with all the choice places for
the take of salmon, while he oftentimes strolled inland and whipped the
mountain streams with no small success. In fact, the gun, the rod, and a
well-trained greyhound amply supplied all the demands of the household;
and never was there a life less crossed by outward cares than theirs.
Whether the Colonel believed or not that Layton was deeply engaged in
his studies, he affected to think so, and made a point of interfering
as little as possible with the other's time. If by a chance word now
and then he would advert to their projected trip to America, he never
pressed the theme, nor seemed in any way to evince over-eagerness
regarding it. Indeed, with a delicacy of truest refinement, he abstained
from making Layton ever feel himself constrained by the deep obligations
he owed him, so that nothing could be freer than their intercourse; the
only theme of gloom between them being the fate of Layton's father, of
which, notwithstanding all their efforts, they could obtain no tidings.
From the day when he quitted the asylum, and was pronounced "cured,"
nothing was known of him. Dr. Millar had assisted in all their inquiries
with a most friendly interest, and endeavored to induce Alfred to accept
the hospitalities of the vicarage; but this he declined, making weak
health his apology. The vicar, however, did not cease to show his
constant attention, feeling deeply interested in the youth. In nothing
did he evince this sentiment more than the trouble he g