"My flute told tales," he said.

"It always spoke the language of my heart." Yet from him I had few concealments.

He was my friend and bosom-counsellor, in whom I reposed the most unreserved confidence.

But strange to say, this confidence was not mutual.

There was a mystery about George which I could not fathom; a mental reservation which was tantalizing and inexplicable.
He was a gentleman in education, appearance and manners, and possessed those high and honourable feelings, which if displayed in a peasant would rank him as one, and which are inseparable from all who really deserve the title.