that way; for it was hard indeed to convince Mr. Trevanion that a
deserving man ever was in such distress as to want charity.

That Trevanion, nevertheless, did infinitely more real good than Sir
Sedley, I believe; but he did it as a mental operation,--by no means as
an impulse from the heart. I am sorry to say that the main difference
was this,--distress always seemed to accumulate round Sir Sedley, and
vanish from the presence of Trevanion. Where the last came, with his
busy, active, searching mind, energy woke, improvement sprang up. Where
the first came, with his warm, kind heart, a kind of torpor spread under
its rays; people lay down and basked in the liberal sunshine. Nature in
one broke forth like a brisk, sturdy winter; in the other like a lazy
Italian summer. Winter is an excellent invigorator, no doubt, but we
all love summer better.

Now, it is a proof how lovable Sir Sedley was, that I loved him, and yet
was jealous of him. Of all the satellites round my fair Cynthia, Fanny
Trevanion, I dreaded most this amiable luminary. It was in vain for me
to say, with the insolence of youth, that Sir Sedley Beaudesert was of
the same age as Fanny's father; to see them together, he might have
passed for Trevanion's son. No one amongst the younger generation was
half so handsome as Sedley Beaudesert. He might be eclipsed at first
sight by the showy effect of more redundant locks and more brilliant
bloom; but he had but to speak, to smile, in order to throw a whole
cohort of dandies into the shade. It was the expression of his
countenance that was so bewitching; there was something so kindly in its
easy candor, its benign good-nature. And he understood women so well!
He flattered their foibles so insensibly; he commanded their affection
with so gracious a dignity. Above all, what with his accomplishments,
his peculiar reputation, his long celibacy, and the soft melancholy of