"How are you pleased, Emily, with your new acquaintances?" familiarly commenced Mrs. Wilson.
"Oh! aunt, don't ask me; as John says, they are new, indeed."
"I am not sorry," continued the aunt, "to have you observe more closely than you have been used to, the manners of such women as the Jarvises: they are too abrupt and unpleasant to create a dread of any imitation; but the gentlemen are heroes in very different styles."
"Different from each other, indeed."
"To which do you give the preference, my dear?"
"Preference, aunt!" said her niece with a look of astonishment; "preference is a strong word for either; but I rather think the captain the most eligible companion of the two. I do believe you see the worst of him; and although I acknowledge it to be bad enough, he might amend; but the colonel"—
"Go on," said Mrs. Wilson.
"Why, everything about the colonel seems so seated, so ingrafted in his nature, so—so very self-satisfied, that I am afraid it would be a difficult task to take the first step in amendment—to convince him of its necessity."
"And is it then so necessary?"
Emily looked up from arranging some laces, with an expression of surprise, as she replied,—
"Did you not hear him talk of those poems, and attempt to point out the beauties of several works? I thought everything he uttered was referred to taste, and that not a very natural one; at least," she added with a laugh, "it differed greatly from mine. He seemed to forget altogether there was such a thing as principle; and then he spoke of some woman to Jane, who had left her father for her lover, with so much admiration of her feelings, to take up with poverty and love, as he called it, in place of condemning her want of filial piety—I am sure, aunt, if you had heard that, you would not admire him so much."
"I do not admire him at all, child; I only want to know your sentiments, and I am happy to find them so correct.