"I saw my father myself, my dear aunt," replied De Vaux: "he was with me in my room for half an hour, and explained the necessity of his departure." Colonel Manners could have smiled; but he thought it best to follow the lead that had been given, and to appear ignorant of anything else having taken place, though, of course, he felt internally convinced that his unfortunate dispute with De Vaux's father had been the cause of that nobleman's sudden and abrupt departure. "I think your father mentioned last night," he said, in pursuance of this plan, "that he was going to Dimden, did he not, De Vaux? Does it belong to your family?" "It always has done so," replied his friend: "it is here, very near--but a few miles off; but it is not kept up as I think it should be. My father always resides at the other house; and seems to have so strong an aversion to Dimden, that, not contented with not living there, he lets it fall somewhat to decay." "I must make you take me there some morning," answered Colonel Manners; "I have heard that it contains a fine collection of pictures." "Fine, I believe, but small," answered De Vaux, delighted to fancy that his friend had totally forgotten the dispute of the night before, and was ignorant of any fresh discomfort which had been produced by that morning; "fine, I believe, but small--but I do not understand anything about pictures." "Nay, nay, Edward, do not say that," exclaimed Miss Falkland. "Do you not love everything that is beautiful and fine in nature? have you not an eye to mark every shade and every line that is worth looking at in a landscape? and do you call that not understanding pictures? I have seen you and Marian find out a thousand beautiful little tints and touches, and lights and shades, in a view that I had generalized most vulgarly." Colonel Manners and Mrs. Falkland smiled; and perhaps both might have said, had they spoken their thoughts, "It was because your two cousins were in love, fair lady, and you were not!" They left the matter unexplained, however, contenting themselves with thinking that Isadore might, some time, learn the secret of finding out new beauties in a view; and De Vaux answered in his own style, "Still, Isadore, I know nothing about pictures, depend upon it. I cannot talk of _breadth_, and _handling_ and _chiar' oscuro_, and _juice_, and _ordonnance_." "Except when you mean a park of artillery, De Vaux," said Colonel Manners; "but, if I understand you rightly, you can see and feel the beauties of a picture as well as any one, though you cannot talk the jargon of a connoisseur about it."