280 IN A WINTER CITY.
He did what Lady HUda told him to do; he
always did when he and she were together ;
he was a simple, kindly, honest gentleman,
who regarded England as the universe, and all
the rest of the world as a mere accident.
His sister's contempt for her country and his
politics, her phUosophy of indifferentism, her
Biioration of primitive art, her variable disdain,
and her intellectual pharisaism had always seemed
to him very wonderful, and not altogether com¬
fortable ; but he admfred her in a hopeless kind
of way, and it was not in his temper to puzzle
over people's differences of opinion or character.
" HUda thinks aU the old dead fellows were
gods, and she thinks aU of us asses," he would
say humbly. " I don't loiow, you know,—she's
awfuUy clever. I never was. It may be so,
only I never wiU beUeve that England is used
up, as she says ; and I like the east wind myself;
and what she can see in those saints she's
just bought, painted on thefr tiptoes, or in those
old crooked pots;—^but if she'd stayed in the
country, and himted twice a week aU winter, you
know she would not have been like that,"
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