‘You have me in your power,’ said I, and she struck out.  Her shape is exceedingly graceful; I was charmed by the occasional tightening in of her lips as she exerted her muscle, while at intervals telling me of her race with one of her boastful younger brothers, whom she had beaten.  I believe it is only when they are using physical exertion that the eyes of young girls have entire simplicity—­the simplicity of nature as opposed to that other artificial simplicity which they learn from their governesses, their mothers, and the admiration of witlings.  Attractive purity, or the nice glaze of no comprehension of anything which is considered to be improper in a wicked world, and is no doubt very useful, is not to my taste.  French girls, as a rule, cannot compete with our English in the purer graces.  They are only incomparable when as women they have resort to art.

Alice could look at me as she rowed, without thinking it necessary to force a smile, or to speak, or to snigger and be foolish.  I felt towards the girl like a comrade.

We went no further than Hatchard’s mile, where the water plumps the poor sleepy river from a sidestream, and, as it turned the boat’s head quite round, I let the boat go.  These studies of young women are very well as a pastime; but they soon cease to be a recreation.  She forms an agreeable picture when she is rowing, and possesses a musical laugh.  Now and then she gives way to the bad trick of laughing without caring or daring to explain the cause for it.  She is moderately well-bred.  I hope that she has principle.  Certain things a man of my time of life learns by associating with very young people which are serviceable to him.  What a different matter this earth must be to that girl from what it is to me!  I knew it before.  And—­mark the difference—­I feel it now.

CHAPTER II

SHE

Papa never will cease to meet with accidents and adventures.  If he only walks out to sit for half an hour with one of his old dames, as he calls them, something is sure to happen to him, and it is almost as sure that Mr. Pollingray will be passing at the time and mixed up in it.

Since Mr. Pollingray’s return from his last residence on the Continent, I have learnt to know him and like him.  Charles is unjust to his uncle.  He is not at all the grave kind of man I expected from Charles’s description.  He is extremely entertaining, and then he understands the world, and I like to hear him talk, he is so unpretentious and uses just the right words.  No one would imagine his age, from his appearance, and he has more fun than any young man I have listened to.