We were indeed cheated out of our philosophy, and set laughing most comfortably by the ridiculousness of this adventure of neighbour Bentley, which, as he anticipated, was seized upon with rapture by Mrs. Fitzroy, for her "Irish Reminiscences," but poor Charlotte was writhing under the remembrance of her having _blushed_, and Mrs. Fitzroy, who is very good-natured, and who saw exactly the cause, which was no other than that of having been _suspected_ to feel what in reality she did _not_ feel, endeavoured to relieve her by recurring to the subject of our conversation, saying, "Oh! Charlotte, you must repeat your last observation, I scarcely heard it. Were you not saying that in wild places where there is no great choice of society, the bonds of fellowship are drawn closer, and people are disposed to like each other better than in situations which render one fastidious by the variety they present? If _that_, my dear, was your remark, I think it a very just one, and I believe that I may apply the rule to our young friends who are gone to-day; one of whom, had I met him in what is called the _world_, I should probably never have known, he is so reserved: and the other is so volatile, that he would have been completely evaporated over a larger surface." Charlotte, who had quite recovered her _nerve_, answered with perfect ease, "Well, there is great pleasure in liking our fellow-creatures, and, if retirement produce philanthropy, it is better than the world; is it not?" "I believe," answered Mrs. Fitzroy, that I shall be entirely of your opinion some time or other, though we arrive at this agreement by very opposite paths. _You_, having seen nothing of the world, and _I_ a great deal too much of it; you inhabitants of Glenalta are making me long for settlement amongst you; and I feel as if you were the only set of people living "Whose hearts keep the promise I had from the face." Old Bentley _fidgeted_; giving one of his rapid glances at George, to ascertain how he stood _affected_ by Mrs. Fitzroy's panegyric, and finding "pleased acquiescence" seated on his nephew's countenance, suddenly clapped his hands on his knees (a favourite movement of his) and exclaimed, "Pooh, madam! all fal lal sort of talk. You might sit here till doomsday ringing the changes upon these matters of sentiment, and _all_ be right and _all_ be wrong. I dare say that Miss Douglas could say something different from what you and her sister think upon the subject. Miss Fanny, if we call her from tying up those sweet peas, would probably tell us something else; and our young gentlemen, all, I dare say, could produce a different reading of the self-same thought. The fact is, that each individual character gives its own hue to such sort of disquisitions. Miss Douglas what do you say?"