ence at all, except in
their hypochondriac brains, when love-stricken; whereas, your honest,
matter-of-fact people come together--first with indifference, and,
as there is nothing angelic to be expected on either side, there is
consequently no disappointment. There has, in fact, been no sentimental
fraud committed--no swindle of the heart--for love, too, like its
relation, knavery, has its black-legs, and very frequently raises credit
upon false pretences; the consequence is, that plain honesty begins to
produce its natural effects."

"Can this man," thought Lucy, "have been taking lessons from papa? And
pray, my lord," she proceeded, "what are those effects which marriage
without love--produces?"

"Why, a good honest indifference, in the first place, which keeps the
heart easy and somewhat indolent withal. There is none of that sharp
jealousy which is perpetually on the spy for offence. None of that
pulling and pouting--falling out and falling in--which are ever the
accessories of love. On the contrary, honest indifference minds the
family--honest indifference, mark, buys the beef and mutton, reckons the
household linen--eschews parties and all places of fashionable resort,
attends to the children--sees them educated, bled, blistered, et cetera,
when necessary; and, what is still better, looks to their religion,
hears them their catechism, brings them, in their clean bibs and
tuckers, to church, and rewards that one who carries home most of the
sermon with a large lump of sugar-candy."

"These are very original views of marriage, my lord."

"Aha!" thought his lordship, "I knew the originality would catch her."

"Why, the fact is, Miss Gourlay, that I believe--at least I think I may
say--that originality is my forte. I have a horror against everything
common."

"I thought so, my lord," replied Lucy; "your sense, for instance, is
anything but common sense."

"You are pleased to flatter me, Miss Gourlay, but you speak very truly;
and that is because I always think for myself--I do not wish to be
measured by a common standard."

"You are very right; my lord; it would be difficult, I fear, to find a
common standard to measure you by. One would imagine, for instance,
that you have been on this principle absolutely studying the subject of
matrimony. At least, you are the first person I have ever met who has
succeeded in completely stripping it of common sense, and there I must
admit your originality."

"Gad!" thou