I cannot altogether say that my second marriage, during the few years we remained in the metropolis, was a happy one; but whether the fretful annoyance in which it kept me arose from any fault in our own management, or from causes exterior to ourselves, I am not disposed to inquire. Certain it is, that Mr. Ascomy suspected me of a predilection for prodigality, and that Mrs. Tythe complained among her country friends of having suffered unjustly by his partiality to me; although, in fact, she suffered nothing; and Mr. Tythe was in the receipt of all the advantages of a good living, more than adequate to supply the desire of their frugal wishes. Of him I knew comparatively little; I never became anxious for his intimacy; and therefore I can only say, that he was a steady, sober, corpulently-inclined parish priest, a little too dogmatical and pompous; his habits acquired as a teacher in early life never having been counteracted by any natural vivacity. I therefore cannot say that our estrangement from them ever had any material effect upon me: I should have been as well pleased had we remained on good terms, but I was very easy under his unwarranted displeasure.

It was different with Mr. Ascomy. In him I did feel a particular interest; his oddity, pertinacity of opinion, and the constantly erroneous conclusions of his understanding, were never-failing subjects of curiosity, heightened to a prodigious degree by his imaginary belief in my extravagance; for the manner in which it was ever peeping through his angular gentleness was indescribably amusing, the effect being always immeasurably beyond the cause.