“In that case,” said Cecilia, “I suppose they would still generally go by the opinion of some man they relied on, or make a very silly choice if they did not.” “You underrate the good sense of your sex.” “I hope not. Do you underrate the good sense of yours, if, in far more than half the things appertaining to daily life, the wisest men say, ‘Better leave _them_ to the _women_’? But you’re forgetting the figure, _cavalier seul_.” “By the way,” said George, in another interval of the dance, “do you know a Mr. Chillingly, the son of Sir Peter, of Exmundham, in Westshire?” “No; why do you ask?” “Because I thought I caught a glimpse of his face: it was just as Mr. Steen was bearing me away down that plantation. From what you say, I must suppose I was mistaken.” “Chillingly! But surely some persons were talking yesterday at dinner about a young gentleman of that name as being likely to stand for Westshire at the next election, but who had made a very unpopular and eccentric speech on the occasion of his coming of age.” “The same man: I was at college with him,--a very singular character. He was thought clever; won a prize or two; took a good degree: but it was generally said that he would have deserved a much higher one if some of his papers had not contained covert jests either on the subject or the examiners. It is a dangerous thing to set up as a humourist in practical life,--especially public life. They say Mr. Pitt had naturally a great deal of wit and humour, but he wisely suppressed any evidence of those qualities in his Parliamentary speeches. Just like Chillingly, to turn into ridicule the important event of festivities in honour of his coming of age,--an occasion that can never occur again in the whole course of his life.” “It was bad taste,” said Cecilia, “if intentional. But perhaps he was misunderstood, or taken by surprise.” “Misunderstood,--possibly; but taken by surprise,--no. The coolest fellow I ever met. Not that I have met him very often. Latterly, indeed, at Cambridge he lived much alone. It was said that he read hard. I doubt that; for my rooms were just over his, and I know that he was much more frequently out of doors than in. He rambled a good deal about the country on foot. I have seen him in by-lanes a dozen miles distant from the town when I have been riding back from the hunt. He was fond of the water, and pulled a mighty strong oar, but declined to belong to our University crew; yet if ever there was a fight between undergraduates and bargemen, he was sure to be in the midst of it. Yes, a very great oddity indeed, full of contradictions, for a milder, quieter fellow in general intercourse you could not see; and as for the jests of which he was accused in his examination papers, his very face should have acquitted him of the charge before any impartial jury of his countrymen.” “You sketch quite an interesting picture of him,” said Cecilia. “I wish we did know him: he would be worth seeing.”