But he was too young and too vivid, and too romantic, to be what is called a sensualist.

He could not look upon a fair face, and a guileless smile, and all the ineffable symmetry of a woman's shape, with the eye of a man buying cattle for base uses.
He very easily fell in love, or fancied he did, it is true,--but then he could not separate desire from fancy, or calculate the game of passion without bringing the heart or the imagination into the matter.

And though Alice was very pretty and very engaging, he was not yet in love with her, and he had no intention of becoming so.
He felt the evening somewhat long, when for the first time Alice discontinued her usual lesson; but Maltravers had abundant resources in himself.

He placed Shakespeare and Schiller on his table, and lighted his German meerschaum--he read till he became inspired, and then he wrote--and when he had composed a few stanzas he was not contented till he had set them to music, and tried their melody with his voice.

For he had all the passion of a German for song, and music--that wild Maltravers!--and his voice was sweet, his taste consummate, his science profound.