Tales and Novels, vol 7 | Page 5

should
at last be right, and my balance perfectly accurate."
"Very true, my dear: as long as you choose for your auditors only your
friends, you are wise; but you sometimes lay your accounts open to
strangers; and as they see only your errors, without ever coming to your
conclusion, they form no favourable opinion of your accuracy."
"I don't mind what strangers think of me--much," said Rosamond.--"At
least you will allow, mamma, that I have reason to be satisfied, if only

those who do not know me should form an unfavourable opinion of my
judgment--and, after all, ma'am, of the two classes of people, those who
'never said a foolish thing, and never did a wise one,' and those who
never did a foolish thing, and never said a wise one, would not you
rather that I should belong to the latter class?"
"Certainly, if I were reduced to the cruel alternative: but is there an
unavoidable necessity for your belonging to either class?"
"I will consider of it, ma'am," said Rosamond: "in the meantime,
Caroline, you will allow that M. de Tourville is very agreeable?"
"Agreeable!" repeated Caroline; "such a selfish being? Have you
forgotten his attempting to jump into the boat, at the hazard of
oversetting it, and of drowning my father and Godfrey, who went out to
save him--and when my father warned him--and promised to return for
him--selfish, cowardly creature!"
"Oh! poor man, he was so frightened, that he did not know what he was
doing--he was not himself."
"You mean he was himself," said Caroline.
"You are very ungrateful, Caroline," cried Rosamond; "for I am sure M.
de Tourville admires you extremely--yes, in spite of that provoking,
incredulous smile, I say he does admire you exceedingly."
"And if he did," replied Caroline, "that would make no difference in my
opinion of him."
"I doubt that," said Rosamond: "I know a person's admiring me would
make a great difference in my opinion of his taste and judgment--and
how much more if he had sense enough to admire you!"
Rosamond paused, and stood for some minutes silent in reverie.
"It will never do, my dear," said Mrs. Percy, looking up at her; "trust
me it will never do; turn him which way you will in your imagination,

you will never make a hero of him--nor yet a brother-in-law."
"My dear mother, how could you guess what I was thinking of?" said
Rosamond, colouring a little, and laughing; "but I assure you--now let
me explain to you, ma'am, in one word, what I think of M. de
Tourville."
"Hush! my dear, he is here."
The gentlemen came into the room to tea.--M. de Tourville walked to
the table at which Mrs. Percy was sitting; and, after various
compliments on the beauty of the views from the windows, on the
richness of the foliage in the park, and the superiority of English
verdure, he next turned to look at the pictures in the saloon,
distinguished a portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds, then passing to a table
on which lay several books--"Is it permitted?" said he, taking up one of
them--the Life of Lord Nelson.
M. de Tourville did not miss the opportunity of paying a just and what
to English ears he knew must be a delightful, tribute of praise to our
naval hero. Then opening several other books, he made a rash attempt
to pronounce in English their titles, and with the happy facility of a
Frenchman, he touched upon various subjects, dwelt upon none, but
found means on all to say something to raise himself and his country in
the opinion of the company, and at the same time to make all his
auditors pleased with themselves. Presently, taking a seat between
Rosamond and Caroline, he applied himself to draw out their talents for
conversation. Nor did he labour in vain. They did not shut themselves
up in stupid and provoking silence, nor did they make any ostentatious
display of their knowledge or abilities.--M. de Tourville, as Rosamond
had justly observed, seemed to be particularly struck with Miss
Caroline Percy.--She was beautiful, and of an uncommon style of
beauty. Ingenuous, unaffected, and with all the simplicity of youth,
there was a certain dignity and graceful self-possession in her manner,
which gave the idea of a superior character. She had, perhaps, less of
what the French call esprit than M. de Tourville had been accustomed
to meet with in young persons on the continent, but he was the more
surprised by the strength and justness of thought which appeared in her

plain replies to the finesse of some of his questions.
The morning of the second day that he was at Percy-hall, M. de
Tourville was admiring the Miss Percys' drawings, especially some
miniatures of Caroline's, and he produced his