was altogether irrational, and he knew that it was so. What right
had he to have an opinion about it if Mary Masters should choose to
like the society of Mr. Twentyman? It was an affair between her and
her father and mother in which he could have no interest; and yet
he had not only taken offence, but was well aware that he had shown
his feeling.

Nevertheless, as to the girl herself, he could not argue himself
out of his anger. It was grievous to him that he should have gone
out of his way to ask her to walk with him just at the moment when
she was expecting this vulgar lover,--for that she had expected him
he felt no doubt. Yet he had heard her disclaim any intention of
walking with the man! But girls are sly, especially when their
lovers are concerned. It made him sore at heart to feel that this
girl should be sly, and doubly sore to think that she should have
been able to love such a one as Lawrence Twentyman.

As he roamed about among the grounds this idea troubled him much.
He assured himself that he was not in love with her himself, and
that he had no idea of falling in love with her; but it sickened
him to think that a girl who had been brought up by his aunt, who
had been loved at Bragton, whom he had liked, who looked so like a
lady, should put herself on a par with such a wretch as that. In
all this he was most unjust to both of them. He was specially
unjust to poor Larry, who was by no means a wretch. His costume was
not that to which Morton had been accustomed in Germany, nor would
it have passed without notice in Bond Street. But it was rational
and clean. When he came to the bridge to meet his sweetheart he had
on a dark-green shooting coat, a billicock hat, brown breeches, and
gaiters nearly up to his knees. I don't know that a young man in