e. The man
needn't contribute anything. If he's a rogue, she'll vow he's an angel;
if he's a brute, she will like him all the better for his ill-treatment
of her. They like it, sir, these women. They are born to be our greatest
comforts and conveniences; our--our moral bootjacks, as it were; and to
men in your way of life, believe me such a person would be invaluable.
I am only speaking for your bodily and mental comfort's sake, mind. Why
didn't I marry poor Helena Flower, the curate's daughter?'

I thought these speeches the remarks of a weakly disappointed man;
although since, perhaps, I have had reason to find the truth of Sir
Charles Lyndon's statements. The fact is, in my opinion, that we often
buy money very much too dear. To purchase a few thousands a year at the
expense of an odious wife, is very bad economy for a young fellow of any
talent and spirit; and there have been moments of my life when, in the
midst of my greatest splendour and opulence, with half-a-dozen lords at
my levee, with the finest horses in my stables, the grandest house over
my head, with unlimited credit at my banker's, and--Lady Lyndon to boot,
I have wished myself back a private of Bulow's, or anything, so as to
get rid of her. To return, however, to the story. Sir Charles, with his
complication of ills, was dying before us by inches! and I've no doubt
it could not have been very pleasant to him to see a young handsome
fellow paying court to his widow before his own face as it were. After
I once got into the house on the transubstantiation dispute, I found a
dozen more occasions to improve my intimacy, and was scarcely ever out
of her Ladyship's doors. The world talked and blustered; but what cared
I? The men cried fie upon the shameless Irish adventurer; but I have
told my way of silencing such envious people: and my sword had by this
time got such a reputation through Europe, that few people cared to
encounter it. If I can once get my hold of a place, I keep it. Many's
the house I have been to where I have seen the men avoid me. 'Faugh! the
low Irishman,' they would say. 'Bah! the coarse adventurer!' 'Out on the
insufferable blackleg and puppy!' and so forth. This hatred has been
of no inconsiderable service to me in the world; for when I fasten on a
man, nothing can induce me to release my hold: and I am left to myself,
which is all the better. As I told Lady Lyndon in those days, with
perfect sincerity, 'Calista' (I used to call her Cal