power--and the action being single, it is strong in
proportion. But will a woman's mind decide in this way? Will she
sacrifice to ambition, love, or friendship, or natural ties? No; in her
mind the claims of each are, generally speaking, fairly balanced--and
the quotient, after the calculation has been worked out, although
correct, is small. Our argument, after all, only goes to prove that
women, abstractedly taken, have more principle, more conscience, and
better regulated minds than men--which is true if--if they could always
go correct as timekeepers; but the more complex the machine, the more
difficult it is to keep it in order, the more likely it is to be out of
repair, and its movements to be disarranged by a trifling shock, which
would have no effect upon one of such simple and powerful construction
as that in our own sex. Not only do they often go wrong, but sometimes
the serious shocks which they are liable to in this world will put them
in a state which is past all repair.

We have no doubt that by this time the reader will say, "Never mind
women's minds, but mind your own business." We left Emma in the
drawing-room, rather astonished at our hero's long speech, and still
more by his (for the first time during their acquaintance) venturing to
breathe a contrary opinion to her own sweet self.

Emma Phillips, although she pouted a little, and the colour had mounted
to her temples, nevertheless looked very lovely as she pensively
reclined on the sofa. Rebuked by him who had always been so attentive,
so submissive--her creature as it were--she was mortified, as every
pretty woman is, at any loss of power--any symptoms of rebellion on the
part of a liege vassal; and then she taxed herself; had she done wrong?
She had said, "Innocence and mystery did not walk hand in hand." Was
not that true? She felt that it was true, and her own opinion was
corroborated by others, for she had read it in some book, either in
Burke, or Rochefoucault, or some great author. Miss Phillips bit the
tip of her nail and thought again. Yes, she saw how it was; our hero
had risen in the world, was independent, and was well received in
society; he was no longer the little Joey of Gravesend; he was now a
person of some consequence, and he was a very ungrateful fellow; but the
world was full of ingratitude; still she did think better of our hero;
she certainly did. Well; at all events she could prove to him that--
what?--she did not