“Why afraid, boy? The sooner the poor woman is acquitted, the better will it be for _her_.” “Ay, if she be acquitted; but I fear everything is looking dark, in the case.” “And this from _you_, who fancied the accused an angel of light, only a week since!” “She is certainly a most fascinating creature, _when she chooses to be_,” said John, with emphasis; “but she does not always choose to appear in that character.” “She is most certainly a fascinating creature, _when she chooses to be_!” returned the uncle, with very much the same sort of emphasis. But Dunscomb’s manner was very different from that of his nephew. John was excited, petulant, irritable, and in a state to feel and say disagreeable things; dissatisfied with himself, and consequently not very well pleased with others. A great change had come over his feelings, truly, within the last week, and the image of the gentle Anna Updyke was fast taking the place of that of Mary Monson. As the latter seldom saw the young man, and then only at the grate, the former had got to be the means of communication between the youthful advocate and his client, throwing them constantly in each other’s way. On such occasions Anna was always so truthful, so gentle, so earnest, so natural, and so sweetly feminine, that John must have been made of stone, to remain insensible of her excellent qualities. If women did but know how much their power, not to say charms, are increased by gentleness, by tenderness in lieu of coldness of manner, by keeping within the natural circle of their sex’s feelings, instead of aping an independence and spirit more suited to men than to their own condition, we should see less of discord in domestic life, happier wives, better mothers, and more reasonable mistresses. No one knew this better than Dunscomb, who had not been an indifferent spectator of his nephew’s course, and who fancied this a favourable moment to say a word to him, on a subject that he felt to be important. “This _choosing_ to be is a very material item in the female character,” continued the counsellor, after a moment of silent and profound thought. “Whatever else you may do, my boy, in the way of matrimony, marry a gentle and feminine woman. Take my word for it, there is no true happiness with any other.” “Women have their tastes and caprices, and like to indulge them, sir, as well as ourselves.”