replied Roundjacket, philosophically--"see
his brow laden with cares, his important look, his solemn deportment.
None of the lightness and carelessness of the bachelor."

Verty nodded, as much as to say that there was a great deal of truth
in this much.

"Then observe the glance," continued Roundjacket, "if I may be
permitted to use a colloquialism which is coming into use--there
is not that brilliant cut of the eye, which you see in us young
fellows--it is all gone, sir!"

Verty smiled.

"The married man frequently delegates his soul to his better half,"
continued Roundjacket, rising with his subject; "all his independence
is gone. He can't live the life of a jolly bachelor, with pipe and
slippers, jovial friends and nocturnal suppers. The pipe is put out,
sir--the slippers run down--and the joyous laughter of his good
companions becomes only the recollection of dead merriment. He
progresses, sir--does the married man--from bad to worse; he lives in
a state of hen-pecked, snubbed, unnatural apprehension; he shrinks
from his shadow; trembles at every sound; and, in the majority of
cases, ends his miserable existence, sir, by hanging himself to the
bed-post!"

Having drawn this awful picture of the perils of matrimony, Mr.
Roundjacket paused and smiled. Verty looked puzzled.

"You seem to think it is very dreadful," said Verty; "are you afraid
of women, sir?"

"No, I am not, sir! But I might very rationally be."

"Anan?"

"Yes, sir, very reasonably; the fact is, you cannot be a lady's man,
and have any friends, without being talked about."

Verty nodded, with a simple look, which struck Mr. Roundjacket
forcibly.

"Only utter a polite speech, and smile, and wrap a lady's shawl around
her shoulders--flirt her fan, or caress her poodle--and, in public
estimation, you are gone," observed the poet; "the community
roll their eyes, shake their heads, and declare that it is very
obvious--that you are so far gone, as not even to pretend to conceal
it. Shocking, sir!"

And Roundjacket chuckled.

"It's very wrong," said Verty, shaking his head; "I wonder they do
it."

"Therefore, keep away from the ladies, my young friend," added
Roundjacket, with an elderly air--"that is the safest way. Get some
snug bachelor retreat like this, and be happy with your pipe. Imitate
me, in dressing-gown and slippers. So shall you be happy!"

Roundjacket chuckled again, and contemplated the cornice.

At the same moment a car