"Ah," replied Hoffland, whose quick ear caught these words; "but I am not a common person, Mr. Denis. Remember that."
"Indeed?" said Denis, again betraying some coolness at his companion's satirical manner: his manner alone was satirical—the words, as we may perceive, were scarcely so.
"Yes," continued Hoffland, "and I am an exception to all general rules—just as Crichton was."
"Crichton?"
"Yes; the admirable Crichton."
And having uttered this conceited sentence with a delightful little toss of the head, Hoffland laughed.
Denis merely inclined his head coldly. He was becoming more and more averse to this companion every moment.
"But we were speaking of Roseland, and my reasons for not accepting Mowbray's invitation," pursued Hoffland, smiling; "the reason may surprise you."
"Possibly, if you will tell me what it is," said Denis.
"Why, it is the simplest thing in the world. I come from the mountains, you know."