I saw her turning the leaves over impatiently, and
curling her lip, absolutely with scorn, as she surveyed the little poems
cursorily. I chid her. 'Ma cousine,' said she, 'tout cela m'ennuie a la
mort.' I told her this was improper language. 'Dieu!' she exclaimed, 'il
n'y a donc pas deux lignes de poesie dans toute la litterature
francaise?' I inquired what she meant. She begged my pardon with proper
submission. Ere long she was still. I saw her smiling to herself over
the book. She began to learn assiduously. In half an hour she came and
stood before me, presented the volume, folded her hands, as I always
require her to do, and commenced the repetition of that short thing by
Chenier, 'La Jeune Captive.' If you had heard the manner in which she
went through this, and in which she uttered a few incoherent comments
when she had done, you would have known what I meant by the phrase
'unsettled hurry.' One would have thought Chenier was more moving than
all Racine and all Corneille. You, brother, who have so much sagacity,
will discern that this disproportionate preference argues an
ill-regulated mind; but she is fortunate in her preceptress. I will give
her a system, a method of thought, a set of opinions; I will give her
the perfect control and guidance of her feelings."

"Be sure you do, Hortense. Here she comes. That was her shadow passed
the window, I believe."

"Ah! truly. She is too early--half an hour before her time.--My child,
what brings you here before I have breakfasted?"

This question was addressed to an individual who now entered the room, a
young girl, wrapped in a winter mantle, the folds of which were gathered
with some grace round an apparently slender figure.

"I came in haste to see how you were, Hortense, and how Robert was too.
I was sure you would be both grieved by what happened last night. I did
not hear till this morning. My uncle told me at breakfast."

"Ah! it is unspeakable. You sympathize with us? Your uncle sympathizes
with us?"

"My uncle is very angry--but he was with Robert, I believe, was he
not?--Did he not go with you to Stilbro' Moor?"

"Yes, we set out in very martial style, Caroline; but the prisoners we
went to rescue met us half-way."

"Of course nobody was hurt?"

"Why, no; only Joe Scott's wrists were a little galled with being
pinioned too tightly behind his back."

"You were not there? You were not with the wagons when they were
attacked?"

"No. One seldom has the