He is a handsome fellow,
Noel, very handsome. His features are decidedly in his favour. He
is intelligent and acute. He knows how to be humble without lowering
himself, and firm without arrogance. His unexpected good fortune does
not turn his head. I augur well of a man who knows how to bear himself
in prosperity. He thinks well; he will carry his title proudly. And yet
I feel no sympathy with him; it seems to me that I shall always regret
my poor Albert. I never knew how to appreciate him. Unhappy boy! To
commit such a vile crime! He must have lost his reason. I do not like
the look of this one's eye. They say that he is perfect. He expresses,
at least, the noblest and most appropriate sentiments. He is gentle
and strong, magnanimous, generous, heroic. He is without malice, and is
ready to sacrifice himself to repay me for what I have done for him.
He forgives Madame Gerdy; he loves Albert. It is enough to make one
distrust him. But all young men now-a-days are so. Ah! we live in a
happy age. Our children are born free from all human shortcomings. They
have neither the vices, the passions, nor the tempers of their fathers;
and these precocious philosophers, models of sagacity and virtue, are
incapable of committing the least folly.
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