He appreciated keenly, he was impelled to ape, the alluring practices of the very gentlefolks who galled him by making use of him, and, in the case of the younger generation, regarding him with the easy carelessness and laughing scorn, which had replaced the tyranny and arrogance of one decade, and the stately countenance and elaborate benevolence of another. But in the middle of Jack’s small applause and the compliment of his taking his antagonists for models, his good-nature did not keep him from grinding his teeth at their disparaging treatment culminating in the mocking epithet of ‘counter-jumper.’ CHAPTER XII. HARRY STANHOPE’S NOTION OF BEING A YEOMAN. Harry Stanhope was welcomed with open arms by everybody in Friarton, and Horace was more than tolerated for his brother’s sake. Fan Constable had struck the key-note of public opinion in this England which some people call democratic, when she said that a gentleman ‘generations deep’ could do anything, always supposing he did it with characteristic grace, and win golden opinions on all sides. What Oliver Constable was condemned and ostracised for attempting to do, because he did it out of loyalty to his class, a deep sense of duty to his kind, and the most practical form of Christianity, Harry Stanhope was universally applauded and caressed for trying to accomplish in his burlesque fashion in an idle whim, certainly with no other motive, save that of serving himself and Horry. It was no matter that Harry far outdid Oliver in the liberty he took with the world of Friarton. Oliver only went to his mill and his shop, seeking to revive his old familiarity with business details, and planning how to bring to bear upon them his version of trade principles. He contented himself with reviving his acquaintance with old friends of the family in a conventional enough way, simply making it plain that he acknowledged their obligations and was content to take his place in their ranks. But Harry flaunted his descent from the squirearchy to the yeomanry in the most outrageous style. He ‘went the whole hog,’ as he had said. He was like the stage misanthropes who growl and gibe till men doubt their sincerity, only Harry’s blue eyes were too round and limpid for one to suspect them of depths of hypocrisy. He meant everything he did while the fit was upon him. He was in earnest so far as he knew, when, like hermits in general, he went far beyond the original professors in his actions.