an;
but don't let him exaggerate his feelings or idealise their nature.'

'There's a good deal in all that,' admitted Whelpdale, though
discontentedly.

'There's more than a good deal; there's the last word on the subject.
The days of romantic love are gone by. The scientific spirit has put
an end to that kind of self-deception. Romantic love was inextricably
blended with all sorts of superstitions--belief in personal immortality,
in superior beings, in--all the rest of it. What we think of now is
moral and intellectual and physical compatibility; I mean, if we are
reasonable people.'

'And if we are not so unfortunate as to fall in love with an
incompatible,' added Whelpdale, laughing.

'Well, that is a form of unreason--a blind desire which science could
explain in each case. I rejoice that I am not subject to that form of
epilepsy.'

'You positively never were in love!'

'As you understand it, never. But I have felt a very distinct
preference.'

'Based on what you think compatibility?'

'Yes. Not strong enough to make me lose sight of prudence and advantage.
No, not strong enough for that.'

He seemed to be reassuring himself.

'Then of course that can't be called love,' said Whelpdale.

'Perhaps not. But, as I told you, a preference of this kind can be
heightened into emotion, if one chooses. In the case of which I am
thinking it easily might be. And I think it very improbable indeed that
I should repent it if anything led me to indulge such an impulse.'

Whelpdale smiled.

'This is very interesting. I hope it may lead to something.'

'I don't think it will. I am far more likely to marry some woman for
whom I have no preference, but who can serve me materially.'

'I confess that amazes me. I know the value of money as well as you do,
but I wouldn't marry a rich woman for whom I had no preference. By Jove,
no!'

'Yes, yes. You are a consistent sentimentalist.'

'Doomed to perpetual disappointment,' said the other, looking
disconsolately about the room.

'Courage, my boy! I have every hope that I shall see you marry and
repent.'

'I admit the danger of that. But shall I tell you something I have
observed? Each woman I fall in love with is of a higher type than the
one before.'

Jasper roared irreverently, and his companion looked hurt.

'But I am perfectly serious, I assure you. To go back only three or four
years. There was the daughter of my landlady in Barham Street; well, a
nice girl