old associations,
and that it was really beautiful to see Mr. Newt keeping up the
acquaintance so cordially, and complimenting his old friend so delicately
by thinking of pleasing her daughter. What a pity he had never married,
to have had daughters of his own! "But I suppose, Amy, some men are born
to be bachelors."

"I suppose they are, mother," Amy replied, and found immediately after
that she had left her scissors, she couldn't possibly remember where;
perhaps in your room, mamma, perhaps in mine.

They must be looked for, however, and, O how curious! there they lay in
her own room upon the table. In her own room, where she opened the new
book and read in it for half an hour at a time, but always poring on the
same page. It was such a profound work. It was so full of weighty matter.
When would she ever read it through at this rate, for the page over which
she pored had less on it than any other page in the book. In fact it had
nothing on it but that very commonplace and familiar form of words, "To
Miss Amy Waring, from her friend Lawrence Newt."

Amy was entirely of her mother's opinion. Some men are undoubtedly born
to be bachelors. Some men are born to be as noble as the heroes of
romances--simple, steadfast, true; to be gentle, intelligent, sagacious,
with an experience that has mellowed by constant and various intercourse
with men, but with a heart that that intercourse has never chilled, and
a faith which that experience has only confirmed. Some men are born to
possess every quality of heart, and mind, and person that can awaken and
satisfy the love of a woman. Yes, unquestionably, said Amy Waring in her
mind, which was so cool, so impartial, so merely contemplating the
subject as an abstract question, some men--let me see, shall I say like
Lawrence Newt, simply as an illustration?--well, yes--some men like
Lawrence Newt, for instance, are born to be all that some women dream of
in their souls, and they are the very ones who are born to be bachelors.

It might be very sad not to be aware of it, thought Amy. What a profound
pity it would be if any young woman should not see it, for instance,
in the case of Lawrence Newt. But when a young woman is in no doubt at
all, when she knows perfectly well that such a man is not intended by
nature to be a marrying man, and therefore never thinks of such a thing,
but only with a grace, and generosity, and delicacy beyond expression
offers his general homage to the sex b