e! Now, my friend, let us drop that subject. Of all topics of
talk it is the most distressing to man in general, and I own that
I am no exception to the lot. Wives, Stanbury, are an evil, more
or less necessary to humanity, and I own to being one who has not
escaped. The world must be populated, though for what reason one does
not see. I have helped,--to the extent of one male bantling; and if
you are one who consider population desirable, I will express my
regret that I should have done no more."

It was very difficult to force Trevelyan out of this humour, and it
was not till Stanbury had risen apparently to take his leave that he
found it possible to say a word as to his mission there. "Don't you
think you would be happier at home?" he asked.

"Where is my home, Sir Knight of the midnight pen?"

"England is your home, Trevelyan."

"No, sir; England was my home once; but I have taken the liberty
accorded to me by my Creator of choosing a new country. Italy is now
my nation, and Casalunga is my home."

"Every tie you have in the world is in England."

"I have no tie, sir;--no tie anywhere. It has been my study to untie
all the ties; and, by Jove, I have succeeded. Look at me here. I have
got rid of the trammels pretty well,--haven't I?--have unshackled
myself, and thrown off the paddings, and the wrappings, and the
swaddling clothes. I have got rid of the conventionalities, and can
look Nature straight in the face. I don't even want the Daily Record,
Stanbury;--think of that!"

Stanbury paced the length of the terrace, and then stopped for a
moment down under the blaze of the sun, in order that he might think
how to address this philosopher. "Have you heard," he said at last,
"that I am going to marry your sister-in-law, Nora Rowley?"

"Then there will be two more full-grown fools in the world certainly,
and probably an infinity of young fools coming afterwards. Excuse me,
Stanbury, but this solitude is apt to make one plain-spoken."

"I got Sir Marmaduke's sanction the day before I left."

"Then you got the sanction of an illiterate, ignorant,
self-sufficient, and most contemptible old man; and much good may it
do you."

"Let him be what he may, I was glad to have it. Most probably I shall
never see him again. He sails from Southampton for the Mandarins on
this day week."

"He does,--does he? May the devil sail along with him!--that is all I
say. And does my much-respected and ever-to-be-beloved mother-