_Mr. Gryll._ A true conservative, I hope. Not what a _soi-disant_ conservative is practically: a man who sails under national colours, hauls them down, and hoists the enemy's, like old customs. I like a glass of wine with a friend. What say you, doctor? Mr. MacBorrowdale will join us? _Mr. MacBorrowdale._ Most willingly. _Miss Gryll._ My uncle and the doctor have got as usual into a discussion, to the great amusement of the old lady who sits between them and says nothing. Lord Curryfin, Perhaps their discussion is too recondite for her. _Miss Gryll._ No; they never talk before ladies of any subject in which ladies cannot join. And she has plenty to say for herself when she pleases. But when conversation pleases her, she likes to listen and be silent. It strikes me, by a few words that float this way, that they are discussing the Art of Dining. She ought to be a proficient in it, for she lives much in the world, and has met as many persons whom she is equally willing either to meet to-morrow, or never to meet again, as any regular _dineur en ville_. And indeed that is the price that must be paid for society. Whatever difference of character may lie under the surface, the persons you meet in its circles are externally others yet the same: the same dress, the same manners, the same tastes and opinions, real or assumed. Strongly defined characteristic differences are so few, and artificial general resemblances so many, that in every party you may always make out the same theatrical company. It is like the flowing of a river: it is always different water, but you do not see the difference. Lord Curryfin. For my part I do not like these monotonous exteriors. I like visible character. Your uncle and Mr. MacBorrowdale are characters. Then the Reverend Dr. Opimian. He is not a man made to pattern. He is simple-minded, learned, tolerant, and the quintessence of _bonhomie_. The young gentleman who arrived to-day, the Hermit of the Folly, is evidently a character. I flatter myself, I am a character (_laughing_). Miss Gryll (_laughing_). Indeed you are, or rather many characters in one. I never knew a man of such infinite variety. You seem always to present yourself in the aspect in which those you are with would best wish to see you. There was some ambiguity in the compliment; but Lord Curryfin took it as implying that his aspect in all its variety was agreeable to the young lady. He did not then dream of a rival in the Hermit of the Folly. CHAPTER XIV MUSIC AND PAINTING--JACK OF DOVER (Greek passage) Anacreon. I love not him, who o'er the wine-cup's flow Talks but of war, and strife, and scenes of woe: But him who can the Muses' gifts employ, To mingle love and song with festal joy.