eus, even without a vulture, would indicate
cruelty worse even than Jove's. A woman should marry,--once, twice,
and thrice if necessary."

"Women can't marry without men to marry them."

Frank Greystock filled his pipe as he went on with his lecture. "That
idea as to the greater number of women is all nonsense. Of course we
are speaking of our own kind of men and women, and the disproportion
of the numbers in so small a division of the population amounts to
nothing. We have no statistics to tell us whether there be any such
disproportion in classes where men do not die early from overwork."

"More females are born than males."

"That's more than I know. As one of the legislators of the country I
am prepared to state that statistics are always false. What we have
to do is to induce men to marry. We can't do it by statute."

"No, thank God."

"Nor yet by fashion."

"Fashion seems to be going the other way," said Herriot.

"It can be only done by education and conscience. Take men of forty
all round,--men of our own class,--you believe that the married men
are happier than the unmarried? I want an answer, you know, just for
the sake of the argument."

"I think the married men are the happier. But you speak as the fox
who had lost his tail;--or, at any rate, as a fox in the act of
losing it."

"Never mind my tail. If morality in life and enlarged affections are
conducive to happiness it must be so."

"Short commons and unpaid bills are conducive to misery. That's what
I should say if I wanted to oppose you."

"I never came across a man willing to speak the truth who did not
admit that, in the long run, married men are the happier. As regards
women, there isn't even ground for an argument. And yet men don't
marry."

"They can't."

"You mean there isn't food enough in the world."

"The man fears that he won't get enough of what there is for his wife
and family."

"The labourer with twelve shillings a week has no such fear. And
if he did marry, the food would come. It isn't that. The man is
unconscientious and ignorant as to the sources of true happiness,
and won't submit himself to cold mutton and three clean shirts a
week,--not because he dislikes mutton and dirty linen himself,--but
because the world says they are vulgar. That's the feeling that keeps
you from marrying, Herriot."

"As for me," said Herriot, "I regard myself as so placed that I
do not dare to think of a young woman of my own rank exce