ted the superior sense of making the
money--which was not large enough sum to settle--of real use to the
young pair by an investment which would increase Mr. Compton's
importance in his company, besides producing very good dividends--much
better dividends than would be possible if it were treated in the
old-fashioned way by trustees. This was how the bride wished it, which
was the most telling of arguments: and surely, to insure good interest
and an increase of capital to her, through her husband's hands, was
better than to secure some beggarly hundred and fifty pounds a year for
her portion, though without any risks at all.

Mr. Sharp had also taken great pains to point out that there were only
three brothers--one an invalid and the other two soldiers--between Mr.
Phil and the title, and that even to be the Honourable Mrs. Compton was
something for a young lady, who was, if he might venture to say so,
nobody--not to say a word against her charms. Lord St. Serf was hourly
getting an old man, and the chances that his client might step over a
hecatomb of dead relations to the height of fortune was a thing quite
worth taking into account. It was a much better argument, however, to
return to the analogy of other poor young people, where the bride's
little fortune would be put into the husband's business, and thus
their joint advantage considered. Mr. Sharp, at the same time, did not
hesitate to express politely his opinion that to call him down to the
country for a discussion which could have been carried on much better
in one or other of their respective offices was a most uncalled for
proceeding, especially as even now the other side was wavering, and
would not consent to conclude matters, and make the signatures that were
necessary at once. Mr. Lynch, it must be allowed, was of the same
opinion too.

"Your country is a little bleak at night," said Mr. Sharp, partially
mollified by a good dinner, but beginning to remember unpleasantly the
cold drive in a rattletrap of a little rustic pony carriage over the
hills and hollows. "Do you really remain here all the year? How wonderful!
Not even a glimpse of the world in summer, or a little escape from the
chills in winter? How brave of you! What patience and powers of
endurance must be cultivated in that way!"

"One would think Windyhill was Siberia at least," said Mrs. Dennistoun,
laughing; "we do not give ourselves credit for all these fine
qualities."

"Some people are