"Ernest."
"Well, Charles."
"How would you like to have—but it is too foolish."
"Go on: finish your sentence."
"No, you will laugh."
"Perhaps I shall: I hope so," Mowbray said, sadly smiling.
There was so much sadness in his tones, spite of the smile, that Hoffland's eyes filled with tears.
"What I was about to say was very ridiculous," the boy said, with a slight tremor in his voice; "but you know almost every thing I say is ridiculous."
"No, indeed, Charles; you are a singular mixture of excellent sense and fanciful humor."
"Well, then, attribute my question to humor."