Kenelm moved away from his cousin's side, and entering one of the less
crowded rooms, saw Cecilia Travers seated there in a recess with Lady
Glenalvon. He joined them, and after a brief interchange of a few
commonplaces, Lady Glenalvon quitted her post to accost a foreign
ambassadress, and Kenelm sank into the chair she vacated.

It was a relief to his eye to contemplate Cecilia's candid brow; to
his ear to hearken to the soft voice that had no artificial tones, and
uttered no cynical witticisms.

"Don't you think it strange," said Kenelm, "that we English should so
mould all our habits as to make even what we call pleasure as little
pleasurable as possible? We are now in the beginning of June, the
fresh outburst of summer, when every day in the country is a delight
to eye and ear, and we say, 'The season for hot rooms is beginning.'
We alone of civilized races spend our summer in a capital, and cling
to the country when the trees are leafless and the brooks frozen."

"Certainly that is a mistake; but I love the country in all seasons,
even in winter."

"Provided the country house is full of London people?"

"No; that is rather a drawback. I never want companions in the
country."

"True; I should have remembered that you differ from young ladies in
general, and make companions of books. They are always more
conversable in the country than they are in town; or rather, we listen