When they went to the drawing-room, and Richard had sung a ballad so as almost to make lady Ann drop a scale or two from her fish-eyes, Arthur went out of the room stung with envy, and not ashamed of it. The thing most alien to the true idea of humanity, is the notion that our well-being lies in surpassing our fellows. We have to rise above ourselves, not above our neighbours; to take all the good _of_ them, not _from_ them, and give them all our good in return. That which cannot be freely shared, can never be possessed. Arthur went to his room with a gnawing at his heart. Not merely must he knock under to the foundling, but confess that the foundling could do most things better than he--was out of sight his superior in accomplishment as well as education.--“But let us see how he rides and shoots!” he thought. Even Vixen, who had been saying to herself all the time of dinner, “Mean fellow! to come like a fox and steal poor Arthur's property!”--even she was cowed a little by his singing, and felt for the moment in the presence of her superior. Sir Wilton was delighted. Here was a son to represent him!--the son of the woman the county had declined to acknowledge! What was lady Ann's plebeian litter beside this high-bred, modest, self-possessed fellow! He was worthy of his father, by Jove! He went early to bed, and Richard was not sorry. He too retired early, leaving the rest to talk him over. How they did it, I do not care to put on record. Theodora said little, for her heart had come awake with a new and lovely sense of gladness and hope. “If he would but fall in love with Barbara Wylder!” she thought; “--or rather if Barbara would but fall in love with him, for nobody can help falling in love with her, how happy I should be! they are the two I love best in the world!--next to papa and mamma, of course!” she added, being a loyal girl. The next morning, Richard came upon Arthur shooting at a mark, and both with pistols and rifle beat him thoroughly. But when Arthur began to talk about shooting pheasants, he found in Richard a rooted dislike to killing. This moved Arthur's contempt. “Keep it dark,” he said; “you'll be laughed at if you don't. My father won't like it.” “Why must a man enjoy himself at the expense of joy?” answered Richard. “I pass no judgment upon your sport. I merely say I don't choose to kill birds. What men may think of me for it, is a matter of indifference to me. I think of them much as they think of a Frenchman or an Italian, who shoots larks and blackbirds and thrushes and nightingales: I don't see the great difference!” They strolled into the stable. There stood Miss Brown, looking over the door of her box. She received Richard with glad recognition. “How comes Miss Brown here?” he asked. “Where can her mistress be?” “The mare's at home,” answered Arthur. “I bought her.”