She was stupid, and without a shade of common sense.

He was witty and sensible, and possessed enlarged views of life and politics.
She dreamed of the return of the absurd traditions of a former age; he hoped for things within the power of events to bring forth.

He was sincerely persuaded that the nobles of France would yet recover slowly and silently, but surely, all their lost power, with its prestige and influence.
In a word, the count was the flattered portrait of his class; the marchioness its caricature.

It should be added, that M.de Commarin knew how to divest himself of his crushing urbanity in the company of his equals.

There he recovered his true character, haughty, self-sufficient, and intractable, enduring contradiction pretty much as a wild horse the application of the spur.