 bearing ungraceful, and his
features of that kind which express sound common sense, without a grain of
vivacity or imagination. The younger, who seemed about twenty or upwards, was
clad in the gayest habit used by persons of quality at the period, wearing a
crimson velvet cloak richly ornamented with lace and embroidery, with a bonnet
of the same, encircled with a gold chain turned three times round it, and
secured by a medal. His hair was adjusted very nearly like that of some fine
gentlemen of our own time, that is, it was combed upwards and made to stand as
it were on end; and in his ears he wore a pair of silver ear-rings, having each
a pearl of considerable size. The countenance of this youth, besides being
regularly handsome, and accompanied by a fine person, was animated and striking
in a degree that seemed to speak at once the firmness of a decided, and the fire
of an enterprising character, the power of reflection and the promptitude of
determination.
    Both these gentlemen reclined nearly in the same posture on benches near
each other; but each seemed engaged in his own meditations, looked straight upon
the wall which was opposite to them without speaking to his companion. The looks
of the elder were of that sort which convinced the beholder, that, in looking on
the wall, he saw no more than the side of an old hall hung around with cloaks,
antlers, bucklers, old pieces of armour, partisans, and the similar articles
which were usually the furniture of such a place. The look of the younger
gallant had in it something imaginative; he was sunk in reverie, and it seemed
as if the empty space of air betwixt him and the wall, were the stage of a
theatre on which his fancy was mustering his own dramatis personæ, and treated
him with sights far different from those which his awakened and earthly vision
could have offered.
    At the entrance of Tressilian both started from their musing, and bade him
welcome; the younger, in particular, with great appearance of animation and
cordiality.
    »Thou art welcome, Tressilian,« said the youth; »thy philosophy stole thee
from us when this household had objects of ambition to offer - it is an honest
philosophy, since it returns thee to us when there are only dangers to be
shared.«
    »Is my lord, then, so dangerously indisposed?« said Tressilian.
    »We fear the very worst,« answered the elder gentleman, »and by the worst
practice.«
    »Fie,« replied Tressilian, »my Lord of Leicester is honourable.
