Anthony chafed so hotly against the injustice of society, that he was conscious of a longing to outrage it, but the strong, tender force of associations, the purity of a father's memory, are safeguards for which many a one is in after years thankful; only his pride revenged itself by holding aloof from his former friends. He would have gone to extremes with the Mannerings if Mr Robert had permitted it; but he was blind to all avoidance, took no notice of cold treatment, went to see Mrs Miles as usual, and though the announcement of the engagement gave his kind heart a pang for Winifred, he believed it to be for the best,-- considering the Squires vehemence,--and was glad to make it a kind of opportunity for reconciliation. Personally, too, he liked Ada, who was a favourite with most of the gentlemen round, and he saw no reason why she should not enjoy her little innocent triumph. Therefore Anthony's refusal to come to his house vexed him not a little. "If that foolish fellow is going to walk about on stilts all his days, there will be no living in the place with him," he said, pacing up and down the study with the short, heavy steps which always produced an air of endurance in his brother. "What do you say to it, Charles? O, I see, you don't like my moving about! Why didn't you stop me?" "My dear Robert, I might as well stop a watch that is wound up." "That's nonsense. Of course, I recollect it if you'll only speak. It's merely that sitting down in this heat gives me the fidgets, and you can't stand another open window. What were we talking about?--O, Anthony! Here's his note. Did you ever in your life read such a shut-me-up epistle?" Mr Mannering read the letter, and shrugged his shoulders. "It must be one thing or the other with him." "It's a pity it should always be the wrong thing," said Mr Robert, mechanically resuming his march. "The matter has blown over, and there's an end of it. A pretty girl, and a fresh start, and not one of us but is ready to shake hands. What on earth can he expect more?" "You must have patience," said Mr Mannering. "The lad is sore and unhappy, he may be looking at the matter from an entirely different point of view to yours, and at any rate he is not one to shake off either accusation or act readily." "Well," said his brother, with a little wonder, "you have been his best friend throughout, even to disbelieving plain facts." "You should read more classic poetry, Robert." "Pooh! Why?" "You would get rid of that terribly prosaic estimation of facts. They may be as deceptive as other many-sided things."