“Yes, yes, very true; it was my fault. I am sorry for it. I don’t know which was the greatest fool of the two; you for accepting the title, or I for obtaining it for you. Now if your poor father had not been smitten with the ambition of rank, and had you continued in your profession, you might at this time have been in the enjoyment of a handsome and honorable competency. But now you are a nobleman, you can do nothing to help yourself. I am sorry for you. But if you wish to reside at Trimmerstone, I will put the house in repair for you, and make any alterations or additions you please. Your wife, too, is to be consulted in this matter. Are you not apprehensive of some opposition to your schemes from that quarter?” “Some objection was expressed when I made the proposal, but of course I must overrule every thing of that kind.” “Ay, ay, there again you have been unfortunate. With your views you should never have married such a woman as that. You see it has not answered your purpose after all, even in a pecuniary point of view. You have made a bad business of it altogether. I am sorry for you; but I cannot see what is to be done for you.” It might be very true that Mr. Martindale was sorry for his unfortunate relative, but it was not very decorous to speak thus of a lady before her husband’s face. This circumstance also contributed to increase his lordship’s mortifications, and to add to the weight of his grief. After much more conversation to the same purpose, by which the old gentleman endeavoured to prove his lordship’s folly, and by which his lordship admitted it in all its extent, the interview terminated; and the result of the negotiation was, that orders were forthwith issued for the repair of Trimmerstone Hall for the reception of his lordship. While the Earl of Trimmerstone was engaged with Mr. Martindale, the Countess was occupied by the condoling and sympathising attentions of Mr. Henry Augustus Tippetson. For as soon as Mr. Tippetson was aware of the Earl’s absence from home, he took the opportunity of paying his respects to the Countess; and he found her ladyship in great affliction, and from her appearance he judged that she had been very recently dissolved in tears. This phrase, dissolved in tears, is one of those expressions which, for the sake of pathos, we must now and then use, but it is far too hyperbolical and exaggerated for our taste; and it is our firm and unalterable opinion, that the cause of sympathy is not effectually served by words that mean nothing, or that mean too much. The Countess, however, had very clearly been weeping, and was very obviously in ill-humor with her lord and master.