Chapter 17

To return from this long discussion, the Warden took kindly, as we have
said, to Redclyffe, and thought him a miraculously good fellow, to have
come from the rude American republic. Hitherto, in the little time that
he had been in England, Redclyffe had received civil and even kind
treatment from the English with whom he had come casually in contact;
but still--perhaps partly from our Yankee narrowness and reserve--he
had felt, in the closest coming together, as if there were a naked
sword between the Englishman and him, as between the Arabian prince in
the tale and the princess whom he wedded; he felt as if that would be
the case even if he should love an Englishwoman; to such a distance,
into such an attitude of self-defence, does English self-complacency
and belief in England's superiority throw the stranger. In fact, in a
good-natured way, John Bull is always doubling his fist in a stranger's
face, and though it be good-natured, it does not always produce the
most amiable feeling.

The worthy Warden, being an Englishman, had doubtless the same kind of
feeling; doubtless, too, he thought ours a poor, distracted country,
perhaps prosperous for the moment, but as likely as not to be the scene
of anarchy five minutes hence; but being of so genial a nature, when he
came to see the amiableness of his young guest, and how deeply he was
impressed with England, all prejudice died away, and he loved him like
a treasure that he had found for himself, and valued him as if there
were something of his own in him. And so the old Warden's residence had
never before been so cheery as it was now; his bachelor life passed the
more pleasantly with this quiet, vivacious, yet not troublesomely
restless spirit beside him,--this eager, almost childish interest in
everything English, and yet this capacity to take independent views of
things, and sometimes, it might be, to throw a gleam of light even on
things appertaining to England. And so, the better they came to know
one another, the greater was their mutual liking.

"I fear I am getting too strong to burden you much longer," said
Redclyffe, this morning. "I have no pretence to be a patient now."

"Pooh! nonsense!" ejaculated the Warden. "It will not be safe to leave
you to yourself for at least a month to come. And I have half a dozen
excursions in a neighborhood of twenty miles, in which I mean to show
you what old England is, in a way that you would never find out for
yourself. Do not speak of going. This day, if you find yourself strong
enough, you shall go and look at an old village church."

"With all my heart," said Redclyffe.

They went, accordingly, walking slowly, in consequence of Redclyffe's
yet