sociable as if they had been "hail fellow! well met," a thousand
years. Two young girls, children of a relative, and nieces of the
venerable elder, had already perched themselves upon the knee of
the stranger, and strove at moments over his neck and shoulder,
without heeding the occasional sugary reproof of Dame Hinkley,
which bade them "let Brother Stevens be;" and, already had Brother
Stevens himself, ventured upon the use of sundry grave saws from
the holy volume, the fruit of early reading and a retentive memory,
which not a little helped to maintain his novel pretensions in the
mind of the brethren, and the worthy teacher, John Cross himself.
All things promised a long duration to a friendship suddenly begun;
when William Hinkley, the younger, a youth already introduced to
the reader, made his appearance within the happy circle. He wore a
different aspect from all the rest as he recognised in the person
of Brother Stevens, the handsome stranger, his antipathy to whom,
at a first glance, months before, seemed almost to have the character
of a warning instinct. A nearer glance did not serve to lessen his
hostility.

Our traveller was to the eye of a lover, one, indeed, who promised
dangerous rivalship, and an intrepid air of confidence which, even
his assumed character could not enable him to disguise from the
searching eyes of jealousy, contributed to strengthen the dislike
of the youth for a person who seemed so perfectly sure of his
ground. Still, William Hinkley behaved as a civil and well-bred
youth might be expected to behave. He did not suffer his antipathy
to put on the aspect of rudeness; he was grave and cold, but
respectful; and though he did not "be-brother" the stranger, he yet
studiously subdued his tones to mildness, when it became necessary,
in the course of the evening meal, that he should address him.