'That you must excuse.

He is a mere boor, a log, a brute, with no address in life .-- Positively a fly in the jug.
The first I have seen this year.' Edward rose, and paced the room.

His imperturbable parent sipped his tea.
'Father,' said the young man, stopping at length before him, 'we must not trifle in this matter.

We must not deceive each other, or ourselves.
Let me pursue the manly open part I wish to take, and do not repel me by this unkind indifference.' 'Whether I am indifferent or no,' returned the other, 'I leave you, my dear boy, to judge.

A ride of twenty-five or thirty miles, through miry roads--a Maypole dinner--a tete-a-tete with Haredale, which, vanity apart, was quite a Valentine and Orson business--a Maypole bed--a Maypole landlord, and a Maypole retinue of idiots and centaurs;--whether the voluntary endurance of these things looks like indifference, dear Ned, or like the excessive anxiety, and devotion, and all that sort of thing, of a parent, you shall determine for yourself.' 'I wish you to consider, sir,' said Edward, 'in what a cruel situation I am placed.