I.—But perhaps I have no fancy for including in the scheme of her education a study that takes so much time and is good for so little.
He.—And what will you teach her, if you please?
I.—To reason justly, if I can; a thing so uncommon among men, and more uncommon still among women.
He.—Oh, let her reason as ill as she chooses, if she is only pretty, amusing, and coquettish.
I.—As nature has been unkind enough to give her a delicate organisation with a very sensitive soul, and to expose her to the same troubles in life as if she had a strong organisation and a heart of bronze, I will teach her, if I can, to bear them courageously.
He.—Let her weep and give herself airs, and have nerves all on edge like the rest, if only she is pretty, amusing, and coquettish. What, is she to learn no dancing nor deportment?
I.—Yes, just enough to make a curtsey, to have a good carriage, to enter a room gracefully, and to know how to walk.
He.—No singing?
I.—Just enough to pronounce her words well.
He.—No music?