"O, no, I beg pardon! While we were _trying_ to converse--for among his other defects is an inability to talk to a lady on any subject of interest--I dropped my handkerchief, on purpose, of course, but he never offered to lift it for me; indeed, I doubt whether he saw it at all." "Then, Cara, how could you expect him to pick it up for you, if he did not see it?" "But he ought to have seen it. He should have had his eyes about him; and so should every gentleman who sits by or is near a lady. I know one that never fails." "And pray, who is the perfect gentleman?" asked Jane smiling. "Is he one of my acquaintances?" "Certainly he is. I mean Charles Wilton." "He is, I must confess, different from Walter Gray," Jane remarked, drily. "I hope he is!" said Cara, tossing her head, for she felt that something by no means complimentary was implied in the equivocal remark of her friend. "But, seriously, Cara, I must, in turn, express regret that you allow yourself to feel interested in one like Charles Wilton. Trust me, my friend, he is unworthy of your regard." "And pray, Miss," said Cara, warming suddenly, "what do you know of Charles Wilton, that will warrant your throwing out such insinuations against him?" "Little beyond what I have learned by my own observation." "And what has that taught you? I should like very much to know." "It has taught me, Cara," replied Jane, seriously, "to estimate him very lightly indeed. From what I have seen, I am convinced that he possesses neither fixed principles nor any decision of character. In the world, without these a man is like a ship upon the ocean, having neither helm nor compass." "You make broad and bold charges, Jane. But I am sure you are mistaken." "I may be. But so certain am I that I am right, that I would rather die this hour than be compelled to link my lot in life with his. Certain I am that I should make shipwreck of hope and affection." "You deal in riddles, Jane. Speak out more plainly." "Surely, Cara, long before this you have or ought to have discovered, that Charles Wilton exhibits far too much love of appearance for a sensible man. He dresses in the very best style and may be able to afford it; but that is not all;--he evidently esteems these external embellishments of superior importance to mental or moral endowments. He rarely fails to remark upon men not so well dressed as himself, and to refer to the defect as one sufficient to make the individual contemptible, no matter what may be the circumstances or merit of the person referred to. I have more than once noticed that Charles Wilton passes over every thing in his disgust for defect in dress." "I do not see a matter of serious importance in that," said Cara. "His love of dress is a mere foible, that may be excused. It certainly has nothing to do with his real character."