nothing more calamitous can be conceived, supposing that it should ever for one instant get complete mastery of my head.  This is the peril of a man who has lived soberly.  Do we never know when we are safe?  I am, in reflecting thereupon, positively prepared to say that if there is no fool like what they call an old fool (and a man in his prime, who can be laughed at, is the world’s old fool) there is wisdom in the wild oats theory, and I shall come round to my nephew’s way of thinking:  that is, as far as Master Charles by his acting represents his thinking.  I shall at all events be more lenient in my judgement of him, and less stern in my allocutions, for I shall have no text to preach from.

We picked up the hat and the scull in one of the little muddy bays of our brown river, forming an amphitheatre for water-rats and draped with great dockleaves, nettle-flowers, ragged robins, and other weeds for which the learned young lady gave the botanical names.  It was pleasant to hear her speak with the full authority of absolute knowledge of her subject.  She has intelligence.  She is decidedly too good for Charles, unless he changes his method of living.

‘Shall we row on?’ she asked, settling her arms to work the pair of sculls.

‘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.