In the evening, just before they sat down to cards, the Colonel opened the campaign, by saying, "It is natural for every man to give a decided preference to his own profession; but for my part, if I were to begin life again, and had my choice, I would enter the army. There it is a man acquires glory." "And there it is," said Emma, "he is exposed to danger." "Why, very true, Miss Holmes, but you know that the field of danger is where the crown of honour is won!" "Yes, but what sacrifice of feeling does it require?" "Why, very true, but you know feeling is rather sentimental!" "Sentimental, Sir!" said the lively young lady, "and did you think so when you received your wound in the head? It was then, I suspect, felt to be real." "Why, yes," said the Colonel, somewhat embarrassed, "very true; but we don't pay much regard to feeling when engaged in the conflict." "So I suppose; nor much regard to feeling in prospect of the conflict, and still less when it is over." "There you are mistaken; for before the battle begins, a death-like horror comes over the most courageous spirit; but when it is over, the shout of victory gives an ecstasy of delight." "But how is it changed when you look round on the mangled bodies of the slain--on your friends and comrades weltering in their blood--or think of the wives and children whom the sword makes widows and orphans!" "Ah, true, that's the worst of it: but you know that wars and fightings have been from the beginning, and will be to the end; and some must engage in them." "I presume," said Emma, addressing herself to Mrs. Orme, "you must have felt intense agony of mind, every time the Colonel left you for actual service!" "At first I did, but after I got used to it, I did not regard it, for use, you know, my dear, is second nature; and then there was so much pleasure on his return." "There is, certainly," said the Colonel, "some danger attending the profession of arms; but it is the most honourable profession in which a gentleman can be engaged; and though humanity may shudder at sight of the evils attending it, yet a true soldier is one of the most tender-hearted men living." "Your eloquence, Sir," said Miss Emma, "brings to my recollection what I once read:--'One murder makes a villain--a thousand a hero;' and though you descant most feelingly on the tenderness of a soldier's heart, you no doubt refer to it, when touched by the point of the sword." "Or," said the Colonel gallantly, "when pierced by a woman's eye!" Here the conversation ended, and they passed the evening at their favourite game. "I fear," said Mrs. Orme, as soon as she found herself alone with her husband, "she has no predilection for the profession; and if so, our hopes are blasted." "Yes, yes, she has, only she has thrown up a masked battery in her own defence; but when Charles comes, you will see with what ease he will destroy it."