 as well as anything else!«
    »You hear him, Ada!« said I.
    »The fact is,« Richard proceeded, half thoughtfully and half jocosely, »it
is not quite in my way. I don't take to it. And I get too much of Mrs. Bayham
Badger's first and second.«
    »I am sure that's very natural!« cried Ada, quite delighted. »The very thing
we both said yesterday, Esther!«
    »Then,« pursued Richard, »it's monotonous, and to-day is too like yesterday,
and to-morrow is too like to-day.«
    »But I am afraid,« said I, »this is an objection to all kinds of application
- to life itself, except under some very uncommon circumstances.«
    »Do you think so?« returned Richard, still considering. »Perhaps! Ha! Why,
then, you know,« he added, suddenly becoming gay again, »we travel outside a
circle, to what I said just now. It'll do as well as anything else. O, it's all
right enough! Let us talk about something else.«
    But, even Ada, with her loving face - and if it had seemed innocent and
trusting, when I first saw it in that memorable November fog, how much more did
it seem now, when I knew her innocent and trusting heart - even Ada shook her
head at this, and looked serious. So I thought it a good opportunity to hint to
Richard, that if he were sometimes a little careless of himself, I was very sure
he never meant to be careless of Ada; and that it was a part of his affectionate
consideration for her, not to slight the importance of a step that might
influence both their lives. This made him almost grave.
    »My dear Mother Hubbard,« he said, »that's the very thing! I have thought of
that, several times; and have been quite angry with myself for meaning to be so
much in earnest, and - somehow - not exactly being so. I don't know how it is; I
seem to want something or other to stand by. Even you have no idea how fond I am
of Ada (my darling cousin, I love you, so much!), but I don't settle down to
constancy in other things. It's such uphill work, and it takes such a time!«
said Richard, with an air of vexation
