Lady Carbury at dinner was all smiles and pleasantness. No one looking at her, or listening to her, could think that her heart was sore with many troubles. She sat between the bishop and her cousin, and was skilful enough to talk to each without neglecting the other. She had known the bishop before, and had on one occasion spoken to him of her soul. The first tone of the good man's reply had convinced her of her error, and she never repeated it. To Mr. Alf she commonly talked of her mind; to Mr. Broune of her heart; to Mr. Booker of her body--and its wants. She was quite ready to talk of her soul on a proper occasion, but she was much too wise to thrust the subject even on a bishop. Now she was full of the charms of Carbury and its neighbourhood. "Yes, indeed," said the bishop, "I think Suffolk is a very nice county; and as we are only a mile or two from Norfolk, I'll say as much for Norfolk too. 'It's an ill bird that fouls its own nest.'" "I like a county in which there is something left of county feeling," said Lady Carbury. "Staffordshire and Warwickshire, Cheshire and Lancashire have become great towns, and have lost all local distinctions." "We still keep our name and reputation," said the bishop; "Silly Suffolk!" "But that was never deserved." "As much, perhaps, as other general epithets. I think we are a sleepy people. We've got no coal, you see, and no iron. We have no beautiful scenery, like the lake country,--no rivers great for fishing, like Scotland,--no hunting grounds, like the shires." "Partridges!" pleaded Lady Carbury, with pretty energy. "Yes; we have partridges, fine churches, and the herring fishery. We shall do very well if too much is not expected of us. We can't increase and multiply as they do in the great cities." "I like this part of England so much the best for that very reason. What is the use of a crowded population?" "The earth has to be peopled, Lady Carbury." "Oh, yes," said her ladyship, with some little reverence added to her voice, feeling that the bishop was probably adverting to a divine arrangement. "The world must be peopled; but for myself I like the country better than the town." "So do I," said Roger; "and I like Suffolk. The people are hearty, and radicalism is not quite so rampant as it is elsewhere. The poor people touch their hats, and the rich people think of the poor. There is something left among us of old English habits." "That is so nice," said Lady Carbury. "Something left of old English ignorance," said the bishop. "All the same I dare say we're improving, like the rest of the world. What beautiful flowers you have here, Mr. Carbury! At any rate, we can grow flowers in Suffolk."