"'Tis happy for me, my dear, you think so. But tell me, what you think of 'em?"
"I shall be better able, Sir, to answer your questions, if I see them a second time."
"But we form notions of persons at first sight, sometimes, my dear; and you are seldom mistaken in yours."
"I only think. Sir, that they have neither of them any diffidence: but their profession, perhaps, may set them above that."
"They don't practise, my dear; their fortunes enable them to live without it; and they are too studious of their pleasures, to give themselves any trouble they are not obliged to take."
"They seem to me. Sir, qualified for practice: they would make great figures at the bar, I fancy."
"Why so?"
"Only, because they seem prepared to think well of what they say themselves; and lightly of what other people say, or may think, of them."
"That, indeed, my dear, is the necessary qualifications of a public speaker, be he lawyer, or what he will: the man who cannot doubt himself, and can think meanly of his auditors, never fails to speak with self-applause at least."
"But you'll pardon me, good Sir, for speaking my mind so freely, and so early of these your friends."