"An eulogium I like: it is very sweet. I am well-pleased my Caroline should view me in this light."
"Mama just thinks of you as I do."
"Not quite, I hope?"
"She does not want to marry you—don't be vain; but she said to me the other day, 'My dear, Mr. Moore has pleasing manners; he is one of the few gentlemen I have seen who combine politeness with an air of sincerity.'"
"'Mama' is rather a misanthropist, is she not? Not the best opinion of the sterner sex?"
"She forbears to judge them as a whole, but she has her exceptions whom she admires. Louis and Mr. Hall, and, of late—yourself. She did not like you once: I knew that, because she would never speak of you. But, Robert"
"Well, what now? What is the new thought?"
"You have not seen my uncle yet?"
"I have: 'mama' called him into the room. He consents conditionally: if I prove that I can keep a wife, I may have her; and I can keep her better than he thinks—better than I choose to boast."
"If you get rich, you will do good with your money, Robert?"
"I will do good; you shall tell me how: indeed, I have some schemes of my own, which you and I will talk about on our own hearth one day. I have seen the necessity of doing good: I have learned the downright folly of being selfish. Caroline, I foresee what I will now foretell. This war must ere long draw to a close: Trade is likely to prosper for some
