The man who finds his place in every society is unquestionably a clever man. The aptitude to chime in with the tone of others infers a high order of humor,--of humor in its real sense; meaning, thereby, the faculty of appreciating, and even cultivating, the individual peculiarities of those around him, and deriving from their display a high order of pleasure. From these scattered traits let my reader conjure up Valentine Repton before him, and imagine the bustling, active, and brisk-looking old gentleman whose fidgetiness nearly drove Martin mad, as they held converse together in the library after breakfast. Now seated, now rising to pace the room, or drawing nigh the window to curse the pelting rain without, Repton seemed the incarnation of uneasiness. “Very splendid--very grand--very sumptuous--no doubt,” said he, ranging his eyes over the gorgeous decorations of the spacious apartment, “but would kill me in a month; what am I saying?--in a week!” “What would kill you, Repton?” said Martin, languidly. “This life of yours, Martin,--this sombre quiet, this unbroken stillness, this grave-like monotony. Why, man, where 's your neighborhood? where are your gentry friends?” “Cosby Blake, of Swainestown, is abroad,” said Martin, with an indolent drawl. “Randal Burke seldom comes down here now. Rickman, I believe, is in the Fleet. They were the nearest to us!” “What a country! and you are spending--What did you tell me last night,--was it upwards of ten thousand a year here?” “What with planting, draining, bridging, reclaiming waste lands, and other improvements, the wages of last year alone exceeded seven thousand!” “By Jove! it 's nigh incredible,” said the lawyer, energetically. “My dear Martin, can't you perceive that all this is sheer waste,--so much good money actually thrown into Lough Corrib? Tell me, frankly, how long have you been pursuing this system of improvement?” “About three years; under Mary's management.” “And the results,--what of them?” “It is too early to speak of that; there's Kyle's Wood, for instance,--we have enclosed that at considerable cost. Of course we can't expect that the mere thinnings can repay us, the first year or two.” “And your reclaimed land,--how has _it_ prospered?” “Not over well. They pushed draining so far that they 've left a large tract perfectly barren and unproductive.” “And the harbor,--the pier I saw yesterday?” “That 's a bad business,--it's filling up the bay with sand! but we'll alter it in summer.” “And now for the people themselves,--are they better off, better fed, clothed, housed, and looked after, than before?” “Mary says so. She tells me that there is a wonderful change for the better in them.”