fe;--no man more sorely wanted one. The reader will perhaps
remember how he went down to Nuncombe Putney in quest of a wife, but
all in vain. The lady in that case had been so explicit with him that
he could not hope for a more favourable answer; and, indeed, he would
not have cared to marry a girl who had told him that she preferred
another man to himself, even if it had been possible for him to do
so. Now he had met a lady very different from those with whom he had
hitherto associated,--but not the less manifestly a lady. Caroline
Spalding was bright, pleasant, attractive, very easy to talk to, and
yet quite able to hold her own. But the American Minister was--a
bore; and Miss Petrie was--unbearable. He had often told himself that
in this matter of marrying a wife he would please himself altogether,
that he would allow himself to be tied down by no consideration of
family pride,--that he would consult nothing but his own heart and
feelings. As for rank, he could give that to his wife. As for money,
he had plenty of that also. He wanted a woman that was not blasee
with the world, that was not a fool, and who would respect him. The
more he thought of it, the more sure he was that he had seen none who
pleased him so well as Caroline Spalding; and yet he was a little
afraid of taking a step that would be irrevocable. Perhaps the
American Minister might express a wish to end his days at Monkhams,
and might think it desirable to have Miss Petrie always with him as a
private secretary in poetry!

"Between you and us, Mr. Glascock, the spark of sympathy does not
pass with a strong flash," said a voice in his ear. As he turned
round rapidly to face his foe, he was quite sure, for the moment,
that under no possible circumstances would he ever take an American
woman to his bosom as his wife.

"No," said he; "no, no. I rather think that I agree with you."

"The antipathy is one," continued Miss Petrie, "which has been
common on the face of the earth since the clown first trod upon the
courtier's heels. It is the instinct of fallen man to hate equality,
to desire ascendancy, to crush, to oppress, to tyrannise, to
enslave. Then, when the slave is at last free, and in his freedom
demands--equality, man is not great enough to take his enfranchised
brother to his bosom."

"You mean negroes," said Mr. Glascock, looking round and planning for
himself a mode of escape.

"Not negroes only,--not the enslaved blacks, who are now ensla