Some of the human species have suffered more from joy than from sorrow. Ecstacy has lifted the mind to that height and giddiness as to destroy its self-command, and to precipitate it into the depths and darkness of idiocy. Penelope entertained a fear of this kind for her father. For she had not been accustomed to witness or yield to any very strong emotions. Her uncle, with whom she had lived, had been a very quiet man; and, in his studious retirement, life had passed smoothly and placidly as the waveless current of a subterranean stream. Mrs Greendale had experienced and manifested occasional ebullitions, but they were merely culinary, domestic, common-place, and transitory. As for herself, poor girl, deep as her feelings might have been, and strongly, as in various instances, she might have been moved, these emotions were solitary and soon suppressed. When therefore she saw her father in this state of agitation, much of her own joy was abated in thoughts and fears for him. But in time the violence of the emotion abated, and the father and daughter sat down together to dinner. This was a relief to them both. When the cloth was removed, Mr Primrose then bethought himself of Robert Darnley. Drawing closer to the fire, he said to Penelope; "Well, but, my dear child, I have not yet said a word about an old acquaintance of yours, whom report says you have not used handsomely. But I don't mind what report says. Have you quite forgot your old neighbour Robert Darnley?" Penelope sighed and shook her head, and replied, "Oh, no, my dear father; I have not forgotten him." "Then why did you not answer his letters?" "I answered his letters, but he did not answer mine." "What!" exclaimed Mr Primrose; "do you say that he was the person who dropped the correspondence? You are wrong, my dear, you are wrong. Ay, ay, I see how it is--some letters have not been delivered. It is all a misunderstanding; but it will soon be set right. I have seen the young man. He is now at Neverden; and he tells me that you have not answered his letters. But we shall soon see him in town. He would have come with me, but he must needs stay to eat his Christmas dinner at the parsonage, just to please the old folks. That of course is right; and if children did but know how easily parents are pleased, and how happy they are when their children please them, there would not be so many undutiful children in the world.--And so, my dear Penelope, it is all a mere invention that you are attached to Lord Spoonbill?"