knew as much as I do of Squire Rattray’s friends, and how little you resemble the generality of them. You might even feel some sympathy for one of the neighboring clergy, to whom this godless young man has been for years as a thorn in their side.”
He spoke so gravely, and what he said was so easy to believe, that I could not but apologize for my hasty words.
“Don’t name it, sir,” said the clergyman; “you had a perfect right to resent my questions, and I enjoy meeting young men of spirit; but not
misjudged, and have long known it. On the whole, however, I wonder at that attitude of mine as little as I approve of it.
If I had distinguished myself in any other way, it would have been a different thing. It was the fussy, sentimental, inconsiderate interest in one thrown into purely accidental