She married Mr. Landon because he was
rich, and I was remembering her old lover, Horace Key, standing in the
aisle, watching the wedding. There were three at that wedding, I
think."

"And in such cases, two is matrimony, and three divorce. As to your
memories, Harry? Are they repeatable?"

"I was thinking of the insane pace and frivolities of the past season;
and if I had not spoken, I should have got as far as a reflection on
the bliss of a quiet country life, like the present."

"You must remember, Harry, that the 'frivolity' of the multitude is
never frivolous--it portends too much."

"And pray, sir, in what direction went your memory?"

"No further than the ferry boat. It gave me, this morning, an
opportunity of studying human nature, in its betting aspect."

"What did you think of it, sir?"

"I thought instantly of Disraeli's definition of the Turf:--'this
institution for national demoralization.'"

"Is it worse than politics?"

"Yes. Loyalty to one's country is fed upon sentiment, or self-interest.
Americans are a sentimental race--whether they know it or not--and
Americans do not, as a general rule, want their country to pay them
for loving her. Do you, Harry?"

"No, indeed, sir!"

"There are tens of thousands just as loyal as you are."

"When women get the suffrage," said Rose, "politics will be better and
purer."

"Oh, Rosie! are there not politicians enough in America, without women
increasing the awful sum?"

"We feel compelled to increase it, papa. _Noblesse oblige_, if you
will read sex for rank. I intend to be a Socialist."

"Then you must become very rich, or very poor. Socialism is only
permitted to the very great, or the very small."

"What of Republicanism, sir?"

"It is highly respectable, Harry. Men who would be gentlemen cannot
afford to be anything else; and I have noticed they are more
Republican than Harrison himself."

"Are you a Democrat now, sir?"

"I love Democracy, Harry; but I do not love Democrats."

"Do let us change the subject," said Mrs. Filmer, fretfully. "In a
month or two, the election influenza will be raging. Let us forget
politics among the June roses."

"Suppose we talk of love, then. Love is quite at the other end of the
pole of feeling. What do you think of love in these days, father?"

Harry spoke in his lightest manner, but Mr. Filmer's serious face
reproved it. "Love is a kind of religion, Harry," he answered. "We
will not joke about it, as fo