Take my word for it, and don't ever
go to the trouble of seeking one. Give me a full-blown damask rose. What
care I if it was nursed in a hot-house or if its beauty is due to the
gardener's care? I thank the gardener and take the rose. Or give me a
half-open sulphira, with suggestive odors and soft curving leaves,
passion-pale in tint, or a gorgeous amaryllis produced by artful
development, clothed like a queen in state, bearing erect her magic
beauty. No more wild roses for me!

CHAPTER II.

I had been at Breezy Brook, that beautiful summer resort which you all
know, about a month: it was now July, and nothing had happened worth
relating since my arrival. During the past winter I had not been
idle--attending parties, balls and operas without number, but without
success. This summer I made up my mind to be tranquil and to let events
take their course, for, as Fortune had given me every other good, she
would no doubt in time provide me with a good wife. I had therefore
every reason to be patient.

I was in an unsociable mood one afternoon; so, taking a cigar and book,
I sauntered up the mountain. There is an arbor halfway to its top, and I
have a lounging-place near by, where the roots of an old tree make a
comfortable nest just above a steep precipice, and the place is hidden
from intruders by rocks and foliage. 'Tis a discovery of mine I pride
myself upon, and I go there when I want to collect my thoughts and enjoy
my own company.

Hardly had I made myself comfortable in my retreat when I heard voices
in the arbor below. It was Mrs. Fluffy and her sister, Mrs. J.K.B.
Stunner. I knew them in a moment, though they were not visible. Panting
for breath, Mrs. F. invited the other to take a seat: she was very stout
and soon tired. The sisters were examples of opposite schools of art.
Mrs. Stunner, dark, hard and sharp-faced, was a widow with all her
daughters "well settled" in life--_i.e._, married to wealthy
husbands--and was considered "fortunate" among the matrons. Mrs. Fluffy
was soft and florid, without an angular point, physically or mentally:
much younger and prettier than her sister, she was always spoken of as
"poor Mrs. Fluffy," though she was not badly off that I could see. She
had two daughters "out" this season, and a third casting longing looks
in the same direction.

Thinking they would move on shortly, as the arbor was only a
halting-place for people walking to the summit, I lay snug and waited