"What a pity it is that your father's way each morning lies up
the valley," said Egremont; "he would be your companion to
Mowbray."
"Ah! but I am so happy that he has not to work in a town,"
said Sybil. "He is not made to be cooped up in a hot factory
in a smoky street. At least he labours among the woods and
waters. And the Traffords are such good people! So kind to
him and to all."
"You love your father very much."
She looked at him a little surprised; and then her sweet
serious face broke into a smile and she said, "And is that
strange?"
"I think not," said Egremont; "I am inclined to love him
myself."
"Ah! you win my heart," said Sybil, "when you praise him. I
think that is the real reason why I like Stephen; for
otherwise he is always saying something with which I cannot
agree, which I disapprove; and yet he is so good to my
father!"
"You speak of Mr Morley--"
"Oh! we don't call him 'Mr'," said Sybil slightly laughing.
"I mean Stephen Morley," said Egremont recalling his position,
"whom I met in Marney Abbey. He is very clever, is he not?"
"He is a great writer and a great student; and what he is he
has made himself. I hear too that you follow the same
pursuit," said Sybil.
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