"Our power of being happy lies a good deal in ourselves, I believe," remarked Caroline sagely. "I have gone to Nunnwood with a large party--all the curates and some other gentry of these parts, together with sundry ladies--and I found the affair insufferably tedious and absurd; and I have gone quite alone, or accompanied but by Fanny, who sat in the woodman's hut and sewed, or talked to the goodwife, while I roamed about and made sketches, or read; and I have enjoyed much happiness of a quiet kind all day long. But that was when I was young--two years ago."
"Did you ever go with your cousin, Robert Moore?"
"Yes; once."
"What sort of a companion is he on these occasions?"
"A cousin, you know, is different to a stranger."
"I am aware of that; but cousins, if they are stupid, are still more insupportable than strangers, because you cannot so easily keep them at a distance. But your cousin is not stupid?"
"No; but----"

"Our power of being happy lies a good deal in ourselves, I believe," remarked Caroline. "I have gone to Nunnwood with a large party - all the curates and other gentry and ladies - and I found it insufferably tedious; and I have gone quite alone, or accompanied only by Fanny, and have roamed about and sketched, or read; and enjoyed much quiet happiness. But that was when I was young - two years ago."
"Did you ever go with your cousin, Robert Moore?"
"Yes; once."
"What sort of a companion is he?"
"A cousin, you know, is different to a stranger."
"I am aware of that; but cousins, if they are stupid, are more insupportable than strangers, because you cannot so easily keep them at a distance. But your cousin is not stupid?"
"No; but