of other and
more serious things."
"But there are very few things more serious, my boy."
"At all events," proceeded the other, "it will be original, and
originality, you know, is your _forte_. I believe it is supposed that
she has no great relish for this match, and is not overburdened with
affection for you?"
"She must have changed, though," replied his lordship, "or she wouldn't
have consented."
"That may be; but if she should candidly tell you that she does not like
you--why, in that case, your originality must bear you out. Start
some new and original theory on marriage; say, for instance, that your
principle is not to marry a girl who does love you, but rather one
who feels the other way. Dwell fearfully on the danger of love
before marriage: and thus strike out strongly upon the advantages of
indifference--honest indifference. By this means you will meet all her
objections, and be able to capsize her on every point."
"Norton," said his lordship, "I think you are right. My originality will
carry the day; but in the meantime you must give me further instructions
on the subject, so that I may be prepared at all points."
"By the by, Dunroe, you will be a happy fellow. I am told she is a
magnificent creature; beautiful, sensible, brilliant, and mistress of
many languages."
"Not to be compared with the blonde, though."
"I cannot say," replied Norton, "having not yet seen her. You will get
very fond of her, of course."
"Fond--'gad, I hope it will never come to that with me. The moment a
man suffers himself to become fond of his wife, he had better order his
Bible and Prayer-book at once--it is all up with him."
"I grant you it's an unfortunate condition to get into; and the worst of
it is, that once you are in, it is next to an impossibility to get out.
Of course, you will take care to avoid it, for your own sake, and, if
you have no objection, for mine. Perhaps her ladyship may take a fancy
to support the venerable peer against me in recommending the process
of John Thrustout. If so, Dunroe, whatever happiness your marriage may
bring yourself, it will bring nothing but bitterness and calamity to
me. I am now so much accustomed--so much--so much--hang it, why conceal
it?--so much attached and devoted to you--that a separation would be the
same as death to me."
"Never fear, Norton," replied Dunroe, "I have not yielded to my father
on this point, neither shall I to my wife. Happen what may, my frie
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