No More Learning

Mrs. Hauksbee said:--"The boy must be
caught; and the only way of catching him is by treating him well. "

So she treated him as a man of the world and of experience so long as
the issue was doubtful. Little by little, Pluffles fell away from his
old allegiance and came over to the enemy, by whom he was made much of.
He was never sent on out-post duty after 'rickshaws any more, nor was
he given dances which never came off, nor were the drains on his
purse continued. Mrs. Hauksbee held him on the snaffle; and after his
treatment at Mrs. Reiver's hands, he appreciated the change.

Mrs. Reiver had broken him of talking about himself, and made him
talk about her own merits. Mrs. Hauksbee acted otherwise, and won
his confidence, till he mentioned his engagement to the girl at Home,
speaking of it in a high and mighty way as a "piece of boyish folly. "
This was when he was taking tea with her one afternoon, and discoursing
in what he considered a gay and fascinating style.

Mrs. Hauksbee had seen an earlier generation of his stamp bud and
blossom, and decay into fat Captains and tubby Majors.
At a moderate estimate there were about three and twenty sides to that
lady's character. Some men say more. She began to talk to Pluffles after
the manner of a mother, and as if there had been three hundred years,
instead of fifteen, between them. She spoke with a sort of throaty
quaver in her voice which had a soothing effect, though what she said
was anything but soothing. She pointed out the exceeding folly, not to
say meanness, of Pluffles' conduct, and the smallness of his views. Then
he stammered something about "trusting to his own judgment as a man of
the world;" and this paved the way for what she wanted to say next. It
would have withered up Pluffles had it come from any other woman; but
in the soft cooing style in which Mrs. Hauksbee put it, it only made
him feel limp and repentant--as if he had been in some superior kind of
church. Little by little, very softly and pleasantly, she began taking
the conceit out of Pluffles, as you take the ribs out of an umbrella
before re-covering it. She told him what she thought of him and his
judgment and his knowledge of the world; and how his performances had
made him ridiculous to other people; and how it was his intention to
make love to herself if she gave him the chance. Then she said
that marriage would be the making of him; and drew a pretty little
picture--all rose and opal--of the Mrs. Pluffles of the future going
through life relying on the "judgment" and "knowledge of the world" of
a husband who had nothing to reproach himself with. How she reconciled
these two statements she alone knew. But they did not strike Pluffles as
conflicting.

Hers was a perfect little homily--much better than any clergyman could
have given--and it ended with touching allusions to Pluffles' Mamma and
Papa, and the wisdom of taking his bride Home.

Then she sent Pluffles out for a walk, to think over what she had said.