"
"Of course it is different," was the reply, "but I am obliged to say,
as I said before, that I really cannot accept it."
Remarks similar to these had been made by Thomas Buller and William
Podington at least once a year for some five years. They were old
friends; they had been schoolboys together and had been associated in
business since they were young men. They had now reached a vigorous
middle age; they were each married, and each had a house in the
country in which he resided for a part of the year. They were warmly
attached to each other, and each was the best friend which the other
had in this world. But during all these years neither of them had
visited the other in his country home.
The reason for this avoidance of each other at their respective rural
residences may be briefly stated. Mr. Buller's country house was
situated by the sea, and he was very fond of the water. He had a good
cat-boat, which he sailed himself with much judgment and skill, and it
was his greatest pleasure to take his friends and visitors upon little
excursions on the bay. But Mr. Podington was desperately afraid of the
water, and he was particularly afraid of any craft sailed by an
amateur.
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