174 CHAPTER VIII. The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones With willing sport, to the wild ocean. JA WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE. AMES-although his acquaintances were legion-was not a man of many friends. In fact, he had, in all his life, formed only one great friendship: which had begun at Eton, and had been cemented by three years of continual intercourse at Trinity. George Raynton, the object of this friendship, was, when James first knew him, a clever, somewhat a cynical boy; and he afterwards grew up into a clever, somewhat cynical young man. He had always seconded, and had helped, in some degree, to form, the contemptuous opinions entertained by James, on the subject of love and matrimony. James did not, therefore, expect that, immediately upon leaving Cambridge, Raynton would fall in love himself, and marry-most imprudently-six weeks later. Such, however, proved to be the case. The bride was a girl fresh from school,—an empty-headed girl, vain and frivolous-a beauty, certainly, but no more. Raynton was set down by all his friends-James foremost as infatuated! And Raynton had made no such effort as James was at present making, to liberate himself from the snare. His opinions changed with his desires. He announced and, as he believed, justified, this circumstance to James, in a letter the date whereof James indig nantly erased, and inscribed in its place, "Fool's Paradise." Moreover, since he would not hear of a long, or even of a moderate, engagement, he resigned the Trinity fellowship which he had just, to his pride and glory, gained; resigned likewise-not possessing the wherewithal for married life in England-all his home prospects, his old friends, his country: and emigrated to Australia. And this he did, not only with per fect indifference, but with perfect cheerfulness simply because, as James, in scorn, soliloquized, he carried with him a woman -and a silly woman. James, officiated, superciliously, as best man at the wedding; and returned home doubly, trebly, fixed in his own stoical resolutions. Never -no, Never-would he shew himself such a fool!" Since that period, three years had elapsed; and the friends had heard little of one * another. In fact, a coolness had arisen between them; for Raynton was well aware of James's sentiments: to which, indeed, the recollection of days gone by, afforded him an easy key. But, early in this September, James had received from him a letter, written warmly, even affectionately, and announc ing his return, with his wife and two children to England: thanks to a legacy which had fallen to them in the nick of time. He had bought a small property in Yorkshire, and it was probable that business connected with it would shortly take him into the neighbourhood of Rotherbridge: when he hoped to call upon James. And it so happened, that on the very morning of Gabrielle's departure, some few hours later, Raynton appeared; and remained at Farnley, until the following day. This meeting vividly revived in James's mind, old times-the times when he and Raynton, wandering, arm in arm, about their VOL. II. N Cambridge or Etonian haunts, had shared the feast of reason, and the flow of soul; had drawn Utopian pictures of life; had solved, to their mutual satisfaction, all the great social problems, and had interchanged opinions on every topic which they judged worthy of an opinion at all. Perhaps Raynton, like himself, would willingly have lived those times again. Much, at any rate, of their cordiality was now renewed; and all differences were forgotten. James, however, was not slow to perceive that a change had come over the young Benedict. Not the enervating, the effeminating change which James would have anticipated: but one exactly its opposite. Raynton's face had always been characterized by a dash of cynicism; it was now a cynical face. He sneered continually, moreover; and his manner had a tinge of moroseness. "Let me see, Gordon-" he said, as, his |