"Indeed, Mr. Bentley, I believe that I do think differently from Mrs. Fitzroy and Charlotte on this occasion, and so I dare say that I am wrong; but it strikes me that the more retired the situation in which we live, the more nice do we grow, and the more necessary do we find _great_ congeniality in the people with whom we associate; _that_ is if we want to love them. In the world where every variety of talent and disposition is to be found, one can choose, and if disappointed in one instance, try in another; but in retreat, we must make the best of the given ingredients." Bentley chuckled with delight, and rubbed his hands in triumph. This keen observer knew that Emily's opinion would justify his assertion, and moreover that it would be favourable to his views of keeping George's hopes, _if he has any_, down to the ground, Emily being the person, towards whom I suspect that he thinks his nephew's half averted eyes, are directed. "Aye, there it is," said the uncle, "all right, all wrong; exactly as I said. Mrs. Fitzroy is social in all her tendencies. Human nature is the book in which she principally delights to study. Her love even of fine scenery is coupled with society. She does not like any thing much, except with a reference to communicating her ideas, and puts me continually in mind of a passage that I have met with in the works of Balsac, an old French author, who says, "Que la solitude est un belle chose, mais qu'il est agréable d'avoir quelque un qui sache répondre, a qui on puisse _dire_ que la solitude est une belle chose." Now another thing is, that Mrs. Fitzroy does not require coincidence so much as intelligence. Her mind is generally in search of a good whetstone, while Miss Douglas----." "Oh, do not paint me, Mr. Bentley," said Emily, "I should fly from a portrait of myself." "And I," said Mrs. Fitzroy, "declare loudly against Mr. Bentley's rough sketches. I will, however, admit that there is _some_ truth in what he says, and it exceedingly amuses me to catch glimpses of his caricatures, though they would terrify if I looked long at them." "That is because my caps fit," answered our Diogenes.