And now, in the midst of London dissipations, Leonard yearned for that girlish companionship. It was dull enough, no doubt, that calm and domestic life under the old roof-tree; but it had been pleasant to him, and he had not wearied of it half so quickly as of this fret and fume, and wear and tear of London amusements. Leonard began to think that his natural bent was towards domesticity, and that, as Belle's husband--there could be no doubt that she would accept him when the time came for asking her--he would shine as a very estimable character, just as his father had shone before him. He had questioned his mother searchingly as to Belle's engagement to Mr. Angus Hamleigh, and was inclined to be retrospectively jealous, and to hate that unknown rival with a fierce hatred; nor did he fail to blame his mother for her folly in bringing such a man to Mount Royal. "How could I suppose that Belle would fall in love with him?" asked Mrs. Tregonell, meekly. "I knew how attached she was to you." "Attached? yes; but that kind of attachment means so little. She had known me all her life. I was nobody in her estimation--no more than the chairs and tables--and this man was a novelty; and again, what has a girl to do in such an out-of-the-way place as this but fall in love with the first comer; it is almost the only amusement open to her. You ought to have known better than to have invited that fellow here, mother; you knew that I meant to marry Belle. You ought to have guarded her for me--kept off dangerous rivals. Instead of that you must needs go out of your way to get that fellow here." "You ought to have come home sooner, Leonard." "That's nonsense. I was enjoying my life where I was. How could I suppose you would be such a fool?" "Don't say such hard things, Leonard. Think how lonely my life was. The invitation to Mr. Hamleigh was not a new idea; I had asked him half a dozen times before. I wanted to see him and know him for his father's sake." "His father's sake!--a man whom you loved better than ever you loved my father, I dare say." "No, Leonard, that is not true." "You think not, perhaps, now my father is dead; but I dare say while he was alive you were always regretting that other man. Nothing exalts a man so much in a woman's mind as his dying. Look at the affection of widows as compared with that of wives." Mrs. Tregonell strove her hardest to convince her son that his cousin's affections were now free--that it was his business to win her heart: but Leonard complained that his mother had spoiled his chances--that all the freshness of Christabel's feelings must have been worn off in an engagement that had lasted nearly a year.