enough to get
her a Roman Count or a Sicilian Duke; and as they are usually sent to
the galleys or shot in a few years, the endurance is not prolonged.
These are Trover's cigars, ain't they? I know them well."

"Yes; it was your friend Stocmar filled my case yesterday."

"Another of the would-be shrewd ones!" said she, laughing.

"I did n't fancy him much," said he.

"Nor I, either; he is _such_ a snob. Now, one can't live with a snob,
though one may dine with him, smoke, flirt, ride, and chat with him. Is
it not so?"

"Perfectly true."

"Sir William is not snobbish. It is his one redeeming quality."

"I see that I remarked it the first day we met."

"Oh dear! oh dear!" sighed she, drearily, "what a tame, poor,
commonplace thing life becomes when it is reduced to English cookery
for health, and respectability for morals! I could marry Stocmar if I
pleased, papa."

"Of course you could."

"Or O'Shea,--'the O'Shea,'" said she, with a laugh. "How droll to be the
_she_ of that species! I could have _him_ also."

"Not also, but either, dear," said the Captain, correcting her.

"I meant that, papa," laughed she in, "though, perhaps--perhaps poor Mr.
Ogden might n't see that your objection was called for." And then they
both laughed once more at the droll conceit. "We are to be married on
some day before Lent," said she, after a pause. "I must positively get
an almanac, papa, or I shall make confusion in my dates."

"The Lent begins late this year," remarked he.

"Does it? So much the better, for there is much to be thought of. I
trust to you for the settlements, papa. You will have to be inexorable
on every stage of the proceedings; and as for me, I know nothing of
business,--never did, never could."

"But that is not exactly the character you have figured in here of
late."

"Oh, papa dear," cried she, "do you imagine, if reason or judgment were
to be invoked, that Sir William would ever marry me? Is it not because
he is blind to every inconsistency and every contradiction that the poor
man has decided on this step?"

"Where do you mean to live? Have you any plans on that score?"

"None, except where there are fewest English; the smallest possible
population of red whiskers and red petticoats, and the least admixture
of bad tongues and Balmoral boots. If we cannot find such a spot, then a
city,--a large city, where people have too many resources to be obliged
to amuse themselves with scandal."

"That