Zephaniah was a crafty one. He carried his wits to market. There is no great harm in that. But finding that with this stock he was but scantily provided, he had thrust into the panniers also his conscience and his moral principles, and he mystified his sense of right and wrong, and made people stare. And he made himself very useful to his party; but though he could write most eloquently about loyalty and religion, he could eat most heartily and talk most sycophantically at the tables of those who had not much religion or loyalty to make a boast of. Erpingham was amused to find how very ingeniously a man could write in defence of the church without entertaining any regard whatever for its doctrines or worship. As Erpingham was himself very much pleased with Zephaniah, he introduced him most triumphantly to Lord Spoonbill; and herein was another illustration of the unsound state of Erpingham’s mind; for Lord Spoonbill recollected that formerly his friend had spoken very disrespectfully of the mental character of Zephaniah the critic. As his lordship was not particularly partial to condescending when no obvious and express advantage was derivable from so doing, he prepared to depart on the arrival of Mr Pringle, thinking it a good opportunity afforded him for taking his leave. “Are you in a hurry?” said Erpingham. “Yes,” replied his lordship, after a moment’s hesitation; “I am going to look out for a snug little cottage in the neighbourhood of town for a particular friend of mine.” “Suppose I sell you mine?” said Erpingham. Lord Spoonbill smiled, for he saw that Erpingham knew who the particular friend was for whom the cottage was sought. His lordship then replied; “Your’s, Erpingham! Surely you are not serious? How can you think of parting with the place after having been at so much pains and expense to render it so truly delightful?” “I wish to part with it,” said Erpingham, “merely because it is delightful; and it ceases to interest me because I cannot do anything more to improve it; every alteration will make it less beautiful.” “Now I wish,” replied his lordship, “that you would speak seriously. Do you really intend to part with the cottage? Because, if you do, I should be glad to purchase it.” “I seriously do,” said Erpingham; “for I have an intention of spending a little time on the Continent, in order, if possible, to get rid of these vapours and blue devils.” Zephaniah Pringle was then beginning with a mighty parade of pomposity to say something very wise and oracular on the subject of blue devils or the Continent, but Lord Spoonbill most unceremoniously cut the critic short, and directed his conversation and attention all to Erpingham, as if no one else were in the room.