all the questions had died
out, and there was no more talk of them, except on occasions when a
sudden recollection cropped up among their friends at Windyhill, that
John Tatham paid them his first visit. He had been very conscientious
in his proposed bestowal of himself. Perhaps it is scarcely quite
complimentary to a woman when she is made choice of by a man who is
consciously to himself "on the outlook," thinking that he ought to
marry, and investigating all the suitable persons about with an eye to
finding one who will answer his requirements. This sensible way of
approaching the subject of matrimony does not somehow commend itself to
our insular notions. It is the right way in every country except our
own, but it has a cold-blooded look to the Anglo-Saxon; and a girl is
not flattered (though perhaps she ought to be) by being the subject of
this sensible choice. "As if I were a housekeeper or a cook!" she is apt
to say, and is far better pleased to be fallen in love with in the most
rash and irresponsible way than to be thus selected from the crowd:
though that, everybody must allow, after due comparison and inspection,
is by far the greater compliment. John having arrived at the conclusion
that it would be better for him in many ways to marry, and specially
in the way of Elinor, fortifying him for ever from all possible
complications, and making it possible for him to regard her evermore
with the placid feelings of a brother, which was, he expected, to be the
consequence--worked at the matter really with great pertinacity and
consistency. He kept his eyes open upon the whole generation of girls
whom he met with in society. When he went abroad during the long
vacation (instead of going to Lakeside, as he was invited to do), he
directed his steps rather to the fashionable resorts, where families
disport themselves at the foot of the mountains, than to the Alpine
heights where he had generally found a more robust amusement. And
wherever he went he bent his attention on the fairer portion of the
creation, the girls who fill all the hotels with the flutter of their
fresh toilettes and the babble of their pleasant voices. It was very
mean and poor of him, seeing he was a mountaineer himself--but still it
must be recorded that the only young ladies he systematically neglected
were those in very short petticoats, with very sunburnt faces and nails
in their boots, who ought to have been most congenial to him as sharing
his o