CHAPTER XVII

That contrast of the hardened and mature,
The calm brow brooding o'er the project dark,
With the clear loving heart, and spirit pure
Of youth,--I love, yet, hating, love to mark!

H. FLETCHER.


On the forenoon of the day after the ball, the carriage of William
Brandon, packed and prepared, was at the door of his abode at Bath;
meanwhile the lawyer was closeted with his brother.

"My dear Joseph," said the barrister, "I do not leave you without being
fully sensible of your kindness evinced to me, both in coming hither,
contrary to your habits, and accompanying me everywhere, despite of your
tastes."

"Mention it not, my dear William," said the kind-hearted squire, "for
your delightful society is to me the most agreeable (and that's what I
can say of very few people like you; for, for my own part, I generally
find the cleverest men _the most unpleasant) in the world!_ And I think
lawyers in particular (very different, indeed, from your tribe _you are!)
perfectly intolerable!_"