should be such a woman's favourite will surprise none: she
had, she could have, no sympathies with mild and thoughtful Charles; but
rather dreaded to set her flaunting folly in the light of his wise
glance, and sought to hide her humbled vanity from his pure and keen
perceptions. His very presence was a tacit rebuke to her social
dissipation, and she could not endure the mild radiance of his virtues.
He never fawned and flattered her, as Julian would; but had even
suffered filial presumption (it could not be affection--O dear, no!) to
go so far as gently to expostulate at what he fancied wrong; he never
gave her reason to contrast, with happy self-complacence, her own soul's
state with Charles's, however she could with Julian's: and then, too,
she would indulgently allow her foolish mind--a woman's, though a
parent's--to admire that tall, black, bandit-looking son, above the
slight build, the delicate features, and almost feminine elegance of his
brother: she found Julian always ready to countenance and pamper her
gayest wishes, and was glad to make him her escort every where--at
balls, and fetes, and races, and archery parties; while as to Charles,
he would be the stay-at-home, the milk-sop, the learned pundit, the
pious prayer-monger, any thing but the ladies' man. Yes: it is little
wonder that Mrs. Tracy's heart clave to Julian, the masculine image of
herself; while it barely tolerated Charles, who was a rarefied and
idealized likeness of the absent and forgotten Tracy.

But the mother--and there are many silly mothers, almost as many as
silly men and silly maids--in her admiration of the outward form of
manliness, overlooked the true strength, and chivalry, and nobleness of
mind which shone supreme in Charles. How would Julian have acted in such
a case as this?--a sheep had wandered down the cliff's face to a narrow
ledge of rock, whence it could not come back again, for there was no
room to turn: Julian would have pelted it, and set his bull-dog at it,
and rejoiced to have seen the poor animal's frantic leaps from shingly
shelf to shelf, till it would be dashed to pieces. But how did Charles
act? With the utmost courage, and caution, and presence of mind, he
crept down, and, at the risk of his life, dragged the bleating,
unreluctant creature up again; it really seemed as if the ungrateful
poor dumb brute recognised its humane friend, and suffered him to rescue
it without a struggle or a motion that might have endang