Morris looked up, then down, and folded one of my coats with special care. I saw I had effectually checked his flow of confidence.
"Very well, sir,"—he observed, and said no more.
I was rather diverted than otherwise at my servant's solemn account of Amiel's peculiarities as exhibited among his own class,—and when we were driving to Lord Elton's that evening I told something of the story to Lucio. He laughed.
"Amiel's spirits are often too much for him"—he said— "He is a perfect imp of mischief and cannot always control himself."
"Why, what a wrong estimate I have formed of him!" I said—"I thought he had a peculiarly grave and somewhat sullen disposition."
"You know the trite saying—appearances are deceptive?" went on my companion lightly—"It's extremely true. The professed humourist
