She answered in the affirmative.
"It is a long time since your cousin, Mr. de Burgh, and I have met," he, after some little cautious consideration, remarked. "We were schoolfellows and college friends. Our lives have taken a different turn since then, and I suppose our tastes and manners of life likewise. At least I understand"—slightly hesitating—"that he has married a gay wife, and, with his large fortune, I suppose, acts up to his circumstances and position; but in days of old, I remember Louis de Burgh to have been a man of quieter tastes and habits than his friend Edward Temple."
"I have seen nothing of my cousin since his marriage, nor of his wife either. But their letters are the kindest and most affectionate, as you may suppose," she added, "by my having accepted their invitation to pay them so long a visit."
"Ah, I once knew a great deal of some members of her family," Mr. Temple continued, speaking, not so much in the way of common conversation, than as if moved by some under current of deep and serious interest. "And you think," he added, "that you shall find your cousin's house agreeable?"
There was something dubious in his tone of voice, as he uttered that last enquiry, and Miss Seaham smiled.
"You think perhaps I shall find it too gay to suit my quiet fancy," she said, again raising her eyes to her companion's face.
He looked down upon her, and after a short pause answered with simple earnestness.
"I only think that we shall miss you sadly here."
Miss Seaham shook her head.
"I fear not, Mr. Temple," she said ingenuously; "not half so much, at least, as Selina and Aggy must be missed. I am ashamed of myself, when I think how little I have done, during the last five or six years, in comparison with my more active sisters—how I have selfishly dreamt away my time, whilst they—and Aggy, my younger sister too—have been continually going about doing good. Truly like Wordsworth's old Mathew, I have been, I am afraid,