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“ Humph! not so easy a matter. But how did you hear of
their movements and arrangements ?”
“ From Monimia Porcher ! The dear little creature gave me a
world of news last night, and promises me every assistance. But
she is not a favourite with our grandmother, as you know, and con
sequently can render me, directly , no great assistance. But you
can.”
“ Prithee, how ?”
“ I have sent word to Paula by Monimia that I will call upon
her at ten. I know that she and the old lady are to go out shop
ping at eleven. Now, you will call with me. You are a favourite
with the grandfather, and you are to keep her off. I want to get
every possible opportunity; for T am now determined to push the
affair to extremities. I won’t take it as I have done. I shall
bring all parties to terms this season, or keep no terms with them
hereafter.”
“ What! You persist, knowing all your father’s anti-Gallican
opinions—his prejudices, inherited for a hundred years !”
“In spite of all! His prejudices are only inherited. They
must be overcome ! They are surely nonsensical enough. He
has no right to indulge them at the expense of my happiness.”
“To which you really think Paula necessary ?”
“ Can you doubt ! lam a rough dog, you know ; but I have
a heart, Dick, as you also know ; and I doubt if I could ever feel
such a passion for any other woman as I feel for Paula.”
“ She is certainly a rare and lovely creature. lam half inclined
to take her mvself.”
“ Don’t think of it, you Turk ! Content yourself with dream
ing of Beatrice Mazyck. I’ll help you in that quarter, mon ami ,
and so will Paula. And she can ! They are bosom friends, you
know.”
“ But, Ned, her grandmother is quite as hostile to the English
Buhner tribe, as your fit her is to the Huguenot Bonneaus. You
have a double prejudice to overcome.”
Not so ! It is the old lady’s pride only, that, piqued at the
openly avowed prejudices of my family, asserts its dignity by op
position. Let my father once be persuaded to relax, and we shall
thaw the old lady. She is devotedly attached to Paula, and, I
believe, she thinks well enough of me; and would have no sort of
objection, but for the old antipathy to my name.”
“ Tou are so sanguine !—Well ! I’m ready to help as you re
quire. W hat is the programme.”
“ ou must secure me opportunities for a long talk with Paula
alone. \ou must keep ofi the dragon. lam prepared to brave
every thing—all my father’s prejudices—and will do so, if I can
only persuade her to make some corresponding sacrifice for me. I
am now tolerably independent. In January, my mother’s prop
erty comes into my hands ; and, though it does not make me
rich, it enables me to snap my fingers in the face of fate ! lam
resolved to incur every risk, at all events. Paula, too, is a fear
less little creature; and, though wonderfully submissive to the
whims of her grandmother, I feel sure that she will not sacrifice
herself and me to them in a matter so essential to our mutual
happiness. Things are looking rather more favourable than usual,
lheie ha\e been occasional meetings of the two families. The
old lady and my father even had a civil conversation at the last
tournament; and he has resolved upon a sort of feudal entertain
ment, this Christmas, which shall bring together the whole neigh-
SUPPLEMENT TO SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
bourhood, —at least for a day or two. Y r ou are to be there: so he
requires me to say, and his guest, of course, while in the parish
You must do your endeavour for me while there. It will not he
my fault, if the season shall pass without being properly improved
Love has made me somewhat desperate.”
“Beware, lest your rashness should lose you all. Your father’s
prejudices are inveterate.”
“I think not. They begin to soften. He begins to feel that
he is getting older, and he becomes more amiable accordingly.
He talks old prejudices rather than feels them. It is a habit with
him now r , rather than a feeling. He barks, like the old dog, but
the teeth are no longer in capacity to bite. For that matter, his
bark was always worse than his bite. What he says of the Hu
guenots is only what his grandfather said and thought. Without
the same animosity, he deems it a sort of family duty, to maintain
the old British bull-dog attitude, as if to show that his blood has
undergone no deterioration. In respect to Paula, herself, he said,
at the last tournament, that she was really a lovely little creature,
and regretted that she was of that soup maiyre French stock.
There are sundry other little favourable symptoms which seem to
show r me that he is growing reasonable and indulgent.”
Here, w T e were signalled to breakfast, and our dialogue, on this
subject, was suspended for awhile.
CHAPTER 11.
a bachelor’s BREAKFAST.
It is not often that our fair readers are admitted to the myste
rious domain which entertains a bachelor as its sovereign. They
fancy, the dear conceited little creatures, that such a province is a
very desolate one. They delude themselves with the vain notion
that, without the presence of someone or more of their mischie
vously precious sex, a house, or garden, is scarcely habitable; and
that man, in such an abode, is perpetually sighing for some such
change as the tender sex only can impart. They look upon, as
quite orthodox, the language of Mr. Thomas Campbell, who sings—
“ The garden was a wild,
And man, the hermit, sigh'd, till woman smiled
But this is all vanity and delusion. We no where have any testi
mony that the condition of Adam was thus disconsolate, before
Eve was stolen from his side, in order that she should steal to his
side. This is all a mistake. Adam did very well as a gardener,
and quite as w T ell as a housekeeper, long before Eve w r as assigned
him as a helpmate, and was very comfortable in his sovereignty
alone. A\ e know what evil consequences happened to his house
keeping after she came into it, and what sort of counsellors she
entertained. Let it not, therefore, be supposed that we bachelors
can not contrive to get on, with our affairs exclusively under our
own management. I grant that there is a difference; but the
question occurs, ‘ls this difference for the worse in our case. /
Hardly ! There is, confessedly, no such constant putting to rights,
as we always find going on in the households of married men.
But that is because there is no such need of putting to rights.
I here is previously no such putting to w T rongs, in such a home
hold. lliere, every thing goes on like clockwork. There is
parade, [grant you; but there’s no such fuss! Less neatness;