‘Indeed, Laura,’ said Philip, with a smile, ‘I am equally far from guessing what I should do if my mother had been anything but what she was, as from guessing what I should do if I had a talent for music.’
Mrs. Edmonstone here called her daughters to get ready for their walk, as she intended to go to East-hill, and they might as well walk with Philip as far as their roads lay together.
Philip and Laura walked on by themselves, a little in advance of the others. Laura was very anxious to arrive at a right understanding of her cousin’s opinion of Guy.
‘I am sure there is much to like in him,’ she said.
‘There is; but is it the highest praise to say there is much to like? People are not so cautious when they accept a man in toto.’
‘Then, do you not?’
Philip’s answer was—
‘He who the lion’s whelp has nurst,
At home with fostering hand,
Finds it a gentle thing at first,
Obedient to command,’
‘Do you think him a lion’s whelp?’
‘I am afraid I saw the lion just now in his flashing eyes and contracted brow. There is an impatience of advice, a vehemence of manner that I can hardly deem satisfactory. I do not speak from prejudice, for I think highly of his candour, warmth of heart, and desire to do right; but from all I have seen, I should not venture as yet to place much dependence on his steadiness of character or command of temper.’