"Lucky for you then, Handel," said Herbert, "that you are picked out for her and allotted to her. Without encroaching on forbidden ground, we may venture to say that there can be no doubt between ourselves of that fact. Have you any idea yet, of Estella's views on the adoration question?"

     I shook my head gloomily. "Oh! She is thousands of miles away, from me," said I.

     "Patience, my dear Handel: time enough, time enough. But you have something more to say?"

     "I am ashamed to say it," I returned, "and yet it's no worse to say it than to think it. You call me a lucky fellow. Of course, I am. I was a blacksmith's boy but yesterday; I am--what shall I say I am--to-day?"

     "Say a good fellow, if you want a phrase," returned Herbert, smiling, and clapping his hand on the back of mine--"a good fellow, with impetuosity and hesitation, boldness and diffidence, action and dreaming, curiously mixed in him."

     I stopped for a moment to consider whether there really was this mixture in my character. On the whole, I by no means recognized the analysis, but thought it not worth disputing.