Oxford. In some intrigue, Marston discovered in his cousin a
too-successful rival; the consequence was, a bitter and furious quarrel,
which, but for the prompt and peremptory interference of friends, Marston
would undoubtedly have pushed to a bloody issue. Time had, however,
healed this rupture, and the young men came to regard one another with
the same feelings, and eventually to re-establish the same sort of cold
and indifferent intimacy which had subsisted between them before their
angry collision.

Under these circumstances, whatever suspicion Marston might have felt on
the receipt of the unexpected, and indeed unaccountable proposal, which had
just reached him, he certainly had little reason to complain of any
violation of early friendship in the neglect with which Sir Wynston had
hitherto treated him. In deciding to decline his proposed visit, however,
Marston had not consulted the impulses of spite or anger. He knew the
baronet well; he knew that he cherished no good will towards him, and
that in the project which he had thus unexpectedly broached, whatever
indirect or selfish schemes might possibly be at the bottom of it, no
friendly feeling had ever mingled. He was therefore resolved to avoid the
trouble and the expense of a visit in all respects distasteful to him,
and in a gentlemanlike way, but, at the same time, as the reader may
suppose, with very little anxiety as to whether or not his gay
correspondent should take offence at his reply, to decline, once for all,
the proposed distinction.

With this resolution, he entered the spacious and somewhat dilapidated
mansion which called him master; and entering a sitting room,
appropriated to his daughter's use, he found her there, in company with
her beautiful French governess. He kissed his child, and saluted her
young preceptress with formal courtesy.