Something might have smote the old man with a conviction, that in this youth was strength and life, the spirit of the new generation then arising, before which the old worn-out generation would crumble into its natural dust.

Dust of the dead ages, honourable dust, to be reverently inurned, and never parricidally profaned by us the living age, who in our turn must follow the same downward path.

Dust, venerable and beloved--but still only dust.
The conversation ending, we took our diverse ways; Sir Ralph giving Mr.
Halifax a hearty invitation to the manor-house, and seeing him hesitate, added, that "Lady Oldtower would shortly have the honour of calling upon Mrs.Halifax." John bowed.

"But I ought to tell you, Sir Ralph, that my wife and I are very simple people--that we make no mere acquaintances, and only desire friends." "It is fortunate that Lady Oldtower and myself share the same peculiarity." And, shaking hands with a stately cordiality, the old man took his leave.
"John, you have made a step in the world to-day." "Have I ?" he said, absently, walking in deep thought, and pulling the hedge-leaves as he went along.
"What will your wife say ?" "My wife?
bless her!" and he seemed to be only speaking the conclusion of his thinking.

"It will make no difference to her--though it might to me.