ABSTRACT
It was now in the beginning of the month of October, and Sir Edward divided his time between the field amusements of Mr. Hawthorn and the conversation of his sister and Lydia, occasionally drawing them from their melancholy converse to smile both with him and at him; while he amused them with a thousand ridiculous circumstances, in which his pretty-gentleman-like education had involved him during his British tour – if that can be called a tour, 123 which was little more than a journey to and from one particular spot. /
