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of scenery。'
'I think；' said Guy； looking up from his letter； 'I should be more
unwilling to take a man like that to interpret nature than anything
else； except Scripture。 It is more profane to attempt it。'
'I see what you mean；' said Amabel； thoughtfully。
'More than I do；' said Philip。 'I never supposed you would take my
advice 〃au pied de la lettre〃；' he had almost added； 'perversely。'
'I have felt my obligations for that caution ever since I have come to
some knowledge of what Byron was；' said Guy。
'The fascination of his 〃Giaour〃 heroes has an evil influence on some
minds；' said Philip。 'I think you do well to avoid it。 The half
truth； resulting from its being the effect of self…contemplation； makes
it more dangerous。'
'True；' said Guy； though he little knew how much he owed to having
attended to that caution； for who could have told where the mastery
might have been in the period of fearful conflict with his passions； if
he had been feeding his imagination with the contemplation of revenge；
dark hatred； and malice； and identifying himself with Byron's brooding
and lowering heroes！
'But；' continued Philip； 'I cannot see why you should shun the fine
descriptions which are almost classicalthe Bridge of Sighs； the
Gladiator。'
'He may describe the gladiator as much as he pleases；' said Guy；
'indeed there is something noble in that indignant line
Butchered to make a Roman holiday；
but that is not like his meddling with these mountains or the sea。'
'Fine description is the point in both。 You are over…drawing。'
'My notion is this；' said Guy；'there is danger in listening to a man
who is sure to misunderstand the voice of nature；danger； lest by
filling our ears with the wrong voice we should close them to the true
one。 I should think there was a great chance of being led to stop
short at the material beauty； or worse； to link human passions with the
glories of nature； and so distort； defile； profane them。'
'You have never read the poem； so you cannot judge；' said Philip；
thinking this extremely fanciful and ultra…fastidious。 'Your rule would
exclude all descriptive poetry； unless it was written by angels； I
suppose？'
'No； by men with minds in the right direction。'
'Very little you would leave us。'
'I don't think so；' said Amabel。 'Almost all the poetry we really care
about was written by such men。'
'Shakspeare； for instance？'
'No one can doubt of the bent of his mind from the whole strain of his
writings；' said Guy。 'So again with Spenser； and as to Milton； though
his religion was not quite the right sort； no one can pretend to say he
had it not。 Wordsworth； Scott'
'Scott？' said Philip。
'Including the descriptions of scenery in his novels；' said Amy；
'where； I am sure； there is the spirit and the beauty。'
'Or rather； the spirit is the beauty；' said Guy。
'There is a good deal in what you say；' answered Philip； who would not
lay himself open to the accusation of being uncandid； 'but you will
forgive me for thinking it rather too deep an explanation of the
grounds of not making Childe Harold a hand…book for Italy； like other
people。'
Amabel thought this so dogged and provoking； that she was out of
patience； but Guy only laughed； and said； 'Rather so； considering that
the fact was that we never thought of it。'
There were times when； as Philip had once said； good temper annoyed him
more than anything； and perhaps he was unconsciously disappointed at
having lost his old power of fretting and irritating Guy； and watching
him champ the bit； so as to justify his own opinion of him。 Every
proceeding of his cousins seemed to give him annoyance； more especially
their being at home together； and Guy's seeming to belong more to
Hollywell than himself。 He sat by； with a book； and watched them； as
Guy asked for Laura's letter； and Amy came to look over his half…
finished answer； laughing over it； and giving her commands and
messages； looking so full of playfulness and happiness； as she stood
with one hand on the back of her husband's chair； and the other holding
the letter； and Guy watching her amused face； and answering her remarks
with lively words and bright smiles。 'People who looked no deeper than
the surface would； say； what a well…matched pair；' thought Philip； 'and
no doubt they were very happy； poor young things； if it would but
last。' Here Guy turned； and asked him a question about the line of
perpetual snow； so much in his own style； that he was almost ready to
accuse them of laughing at him。 Next came what hurt him most of all；
as they talked over Charles's letter； and a few words passed about
Laura； and the admiration of some person she had met at Allonby。 The
whole world was welcome to admire her： nothing could injure his hold on
her heart； and no joke of Charles could shake his confidence； but it
was hard that he should be forced to hear such things； and ask no
questions； for they evidently thought him occupied with his book； and
did not intend him to listen。 The next thing they said； however；
obliged him to show that he was attending； for it was about her being
better。
'Who？ Laura！' he said； in a tone that； in spite of himself； had a
startled sound。 'You did not say she had been ill？'
'No； she has not；' said Amy。 'Dr。 Mayerne said there was nothing
really the matter： but she has been worried and out of spirits lately；
and mamma thought it would be good for her to go out more。'
Philip would not let himself sigh； in spite of the oppressing
consciousness of having brought the cloud over her； and of his own
inability to do aught but leave her to endure it in silence and
patience。 Alas！ for how long！ Obliged； meanwhile； to see these young
creatures； placed； by the mere factitious circumstance of wealth； in
possession of happiness which they had not had time either to earn or
to appreciate。 He thought it shallow； because of their mirth and
gaiety； as if they were only seeking food for laughter； finding it in
mistakes； for which he was ready to despise them。
Arnaud had brought rather antiquated notions to the renewal of his
office as a courier： his mind had hardly opened to railroads and
steamers； and changes had come over hotels since his time。 Guy and
Amabel； both young and healthy； caring little about bad dinners； and
unwilling to tease the old man by complaints； or alterations of his
arrangements； had troubled themselves little about the matter； took
things as they found them； ate dry bread when the cookery was bad；
walked if the road was 'shocking'； went away the sooner； if the inns
were 'intolerable'； made merry over every inconvenience； and turned it
into an excellent story for Charles。 They did not even distress
themselves about sights which they had missed seeing。
Philip thought all this very foolish and absurd； showing that they were
unfit to take care of themselves； and that Guy was neglectful of his
wife's comforts： in short； establishing his original opinion of their
youth and folly。
So passed the first evening； perhaps the worst because； besides what he
had heard about Laura； he had been somewhat over…fatigued by various
hot days' walks。
Certain it is； that next morning he was not nearly so much inclined to
be displeased with them for laughing； when； in speaking to Anne； he
inadvertently called her mistress Miss Amabel。
'Never mind；' said Amy； as Anne departedand he looked disconcerted；
as a precise man always does when catching himself in a mistake'Anne
is used to it； Guy is always doing it； and puzzles poor Arnaud sorely
by sending him for Miss Amabel's parasol。'
'And the other day；' said Guy； 'when Thorndale's brother； at Munich；
inquired after Lady Morville； I had to consider who she was。'
'Oh！ you saw Thorndale's brother； did you？'
'Yes； he was very obliging。 Guy had to go to him about our passports：
and when he found who we were； he brought his wife to call on us； and
asked us to an evening party。'
'Did you go？'
'Guy thought we must； and it was very entertaining。 We had a curious
adventure there。 In the morning； we had been looking at those
beautiful windows of the great church； when I turned round； and saw a
gentlemanan Englishmangazing with all his might at Guy。 We met
again in the evening； and presently Mr。 Thorndale came and told us it
was Mr。 Shene。'
'Shene； the painter？'
'Yes。 He had been very much struck with Guy's face： it was exactly
what he wanted for a picture he was about； and he wished of all things
just to be allowed to make a sketch。'
'Did you submit？'
'Yes' said Guy； 'and we were rewarded。 I never saw a more agreeable
person； or one who gave so entirely the impression of genius。 The n