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 "She told me that, with a gentle pride that reminded me of somebody else."

"She is not at all interfering, and incapable of gossip."

"I know her, Cary: but if—instead of being the personification of reserve and discretion—she were something quite opposite, I should not fear her."

"Yet she will be your mother-in-law?" The speaker gave an arch little nod: Moore smiled.

"Louis and I are not of the order of men who fear their mothers-in-law, Cary: our foes never have been, nor will be, those of our own household. I doubt not, my mother-in-law will make much of me."

"That she will—in her quiet way, you know. She is not demonstrative; and when you see her silent, or even cool, you must not fancy her displeased—it is only a manner she has. Be sure to let me interpret for her, whenever she puzzles you: always believe my account of the matter, Robert."

"Oh, implicitly! Jesting apart, I feel that she and I will suit—on ne peut mieux. Hortense, you know, is exquisitely susceptible—in our French sense of the word—and not, perhaps, always reasonable in her requirements; yet—dear, honest girl—I never painfully wounded her feelings, or had a serious quarrel with her, in my life."

"No: you are most generously considerate—indeed, most tenderly indulgent to her; and you will be considerate with mama. You are a gentleman all through, Robert, to the bone—and nowhere so perfect a gentleman as at your own fireside."