to rub his shoes sufficiently upon the mat at the bottom of the stairs,
or to change his disordered dress before he made his appearance in the
drawing-room. He entered with dirty shoes, a threadbare coat, and hair
that looked as if it never had been combed; and he was much surprised by
the effect which his singular appearance produced upon the risible
muscles of some of the company.

"I have done nothing to be ashamed of," said he to himself; but,
notwithstanding all his efforts to be and to appear at ease, he was
constrained and abashed. A young laird, Mr. Archibald Mackenzie, seemed
to enjoy his confusion with malignant, half-suppressed merriment, in
which Dr. Campbell's son was too good-natured, and too well-bred, to
participate. Henry Campbell was three or four years older than Forester,
and _though_ he looked like a gentleman, Forester could not help being
pleased with the manner in which he drew him into conversation. The
secret magic of politeness relieved him insensibly from the torment of
false shame.

"It is a pity this lad was bred up a gentleman," said Forester to
himself, "for he seems to have some sense and goodness."

Dinner was announced, and Forester was provoked at being interrupted in
an argument concerning carts and coaches, which he had begun with Henry
Campbell. Not that Forester was averse to eating, for he was at this
instant ravenously hungry: but eating in company he always found equally
repugnant to his habits and his principles. A table covered with a clean
table-cloth; dishes in nice order; plates, knives, and forks, laid at
regular distances, appeared to our young Diogenes absurd superfluities,
and he was ready to exclaim, "How many things I do not want!" Sitting
down to dinner, eating, drinking, and behaving like other people,