light shining full against the many windows cased in mouldering pilasters,
and making the general dilapidation of the old place yet more mournfully
evident.

It was but a few minutes to the dinner-hour. I went up at once to the
room appropriated to me,--not the one I had before occupied. Strahan had
already got together a new establishment. I was glad to find in the
servant who attended me an old acquaintance. He had been in my own employ
when I first settled at L----, and left me to get married. He and his
wife were now both in Strahan's service. He spoke warmly of his new
master and his contentment with his situation, while he unpacked my
carpet-bag and assisted me to change my dress. But the chief object of
his talk and his praise was Mr. Margrave.

"Such a bright young gentleman, like the first fine day in May!"

When I entered the drawing-room, Margrave and Strahan were both there.
The former was blithe and genial, as usual, in his welcome. At dinner,
and during the whole evening till we retired severally to our own rooms,
he was the principal talker,--recounting incidents of travel, always very
loosely strung together, jesting, good-humouredly enough, at Strahan's
sudden hobby for building, then putting questions to me about mutual
acquaintances, but never waiting for an answer; and every now and then, as
if at random, startling us with some brilliant aphorism, or some
suggestion drawn from abstract science or unfamiliar erudition. The whole
effect was sparkling, but I could well understand that, if long continued,
it would become oppressive. The soul has need of pauses of
repose,--intervals of escape, not only from the flesh, but even from the
mind. A man of the loftiest intellect will experience times when mere
intellect not only fatigues him, but amidst its most original conceptions,