Mr. Corbet, as Ralph was always called in Hamley, was resolute in his cultivation of himself, even exceeding what his tutor demanded of him.  He was greedy of information in the hours not devoted to absolute study.  Mr. Ness enjoyed giving information, but most of all he liked the hard tough arguments on all metaphysical and ethical questions in which Mr. Corbet delighted to engage him.  They lived together on terms of happy equality, having thus much in common.  They were essentially different, however, although there were so many points of resemblance.  Mr. Ness was unworldly as far as the idea of real unworldliness is compatible with a turn for self-indulgence and indolence; while Mr. Corbet was deeply, radically worldly, yet for the accomplishment of his object could deny himself all the careless pleasures natural to his age.  The tutor and pupil allowed themselves one frequent relaxation, that of Mr. Wilkins’s company.  Mr. Ness would stroll to the office after the six hours’ hard reading were over—­leaving Mr. Corbet still bent over the table, book bestrewn—­and see what Mr. Wilkins’s engagements were.  If he had nothing better to do that evening, he was either asked to dine at the parsonage, or he, in his careless hospitable way, invited the other two to dine with him, Ellinor forming the fourth at table, as far as seats went, although her dinner had been eaten early with Miss Monro.  She was little and slight of her age, and her father never seemed to understand how she was passing out of childhood.  Yet while in stature she was like a child; in intellect, in force of character, in strength of clinging affection, she was a woman.  There might be much of the simplicity of a child about her, there was little of the undeveloped girl, varying from day to day like an April sky, careless as to which way her own character is tending.  So the two young people sat with their elders, and both relished the company they were thus prematurely thrown into.  Mr. Corbet talked as much as either of the other two gentlemen; opposing and disputing on any side, as if to find out how much he could urge against received opinions.  Ellinor sat silent; her dark eyes flashing from time to time in vehement interest—­sometimes in vehement indignation if Mr. Corbet, riding a-tilt at everyone, ventured to attack her father.  He saw how this course excited her, and rather liked pursuing it in consequence; he thought it only amused him.

Another way in which Ellinor and Mr. Corbet were thrown together occasionally was this:  Mr. Ness and Mr. Wilkins shared the same Times between them; and it was Ellinor’s duty to see that the paper was regularly taken from her father’s house to the parsonage.  Her father liked to dawdle over it.  Until Mr. Corbet had come to live with him, Mr. Ness had not much cared at what time it was passed on to him; but the young man took a strong interest in all public events, and especially in all that was said about them.  He grew impatient if