One alteration however in Erpingham’s manner appeared to Lord Spoonbill as an alteration for the better, and that was the greater cordiality with which the visit was received. It had been the practice of Erpingham to receive such as called upon him with cold indifference, and even occasionally to seem to look upon them as unwelcome intruders. The reader may recollect the careless lounging manner in which Erpingham received his friend Lord Spoonbill on a former occasion. His lordship, as recorded, did not like such manner of reception. But on the present occasion there was an improvement. The Epicurean’s countenance brightened up for a moment when the name of his visitor was announced; and, instead of sitting or lounging unmoveably, Erpingham rose up and went to meet him, and with his own hand reached him a chair. Lord Spoonbill was astonished at the change; but he was also astonished at the manifest depression of the poor man’s spirits. For the smile with which he received his friend soon vanished, and left the dull symptoms of permanent and deep depression. Erpingham closed his book, and in the midst of a suppressed yawn made the usual enquiries and uttered the ordinary common-places, more after the manner of the rest of the world than had formerly been his custom. And when Lord Spoonbill had given the expected answers, he went on to speak concerning Penelope Primrose. “Oh yes, I recollect hearing you mention that name,” said Erpingham; “and have you made your arrangements yet?” “Not quite,” replied his lordship, “but I believe I soon may on my own terms. You pretended to be mightily wise and discerning when you uttered your oracles about ladies’ hearts and affections; but I think I shall demonstrate that I understand the female heart as well as you do.” “Very likely,” replied Erpingham; “I don’t make pretensions to any great share of understanding on any subject.” There was so much carelessness and coldness in the tone of this reply, that Lord Spoonbill thought that his friend had been visited by some calamity, or was labouring under some illness; and this apprehension was strengthened by the sight of the phial of laudanum on the table. Looking however again and more observingly at his friend’s countenance, Lord Spoonbill fancied that he discerned symptoms rather of mental than of bodily suffering. And with more considerateness than might have been expected from him, his lordship did not abruptly ask if any misfortune had happened to his friend, but turned the conversation to general topics, and in doing this was much assisted by the newspaper which was lying on the table. He thought that if Erpingham had met with any misfortune and sought for sympathy, he would mention his sorrows unasked.