“Ladies and gentlemen may laugh,” resumed Beauclerc, “but I seriously maintain--better!” “How better than the general, who was present, and heard and saw the whole?” said Lady Cecilia. “Yes, better, for he saw only effects, and I know causes; and I appeal to Lady Davenant,--from Lady Davenant sarcastic to Lady Davenant philosophic I appeal--may not the man who discovers causes, say he knows more than he who merely sees effects?” “He may say he knows more, at all events,” replied Lady Davenant; “but now for the discovery of causes, metaphysical sir.” “I have done,” cried the general, turning to leave the breakfast-room; “when Beauclerc goes to metaphysics I give it up.” “No, no, do not give it up, my dear general,” cried Lady Cecilia; “do not stir till we have heard what will come next, for I am sure it will be something delightfully absurd.” Beauclerc bowed, and feared he should not justify her ladyship’s good opinion, for he had nothing delightfully absurd to say, adding that the cause of his friend’s appearing like a brute was, that he feared to be a hypocrite among hypocrites. “Lord Beltravers was in company with a set who were striving, with all their might of dissimulation, to appear better than they are, and he, as he always does, strove to make himself appear worse than he really is.” “Unnecessary, I should think,” said Lady Davenant. “Impossible, I should think,” said the general. “Impossible I know it is to change your opinion, general, of any one,” said Beauclerc. “For my own part, I am glad of that,” said Lady Cecilia, rising; “and I advise you, Granville, to rest content with the general’s opinion of yourself, and say no more.” “But,” said Beauclerc; “one cannot be content to think only of one’s-self always.” “Say no more, say no more,” repeated Lady Cecilia, smiling as she looked back from the door, where she had stopped the general. “For my sake say no more, I entreat, I do dislike to hear so much said about anything or anybody. What sort of a road is it to Old Forest?” continued she; “why should not we ladies go with you, my dear Clarendon, to enliven the way.” Clarendon’s countenance brightened at this proposal. The road was certainly beautiful, he said, by the banks of the Thames. Lady Cecilia and the general left the room, but Beauclerc remained sitting at the breakfast-table, apparently intently occupied in forming a tripod of three tea-spoons; Lady Davenant opposite to him, looking at him earnestly, “Granville!” said she. He started, “Granville! set my mind at ease by one word, tell me the _mot d’énigme_ of this sudden friendship.”