WYLDER'S HAJVD.
77
Then there came a second cigar, and some little time
in lighting, and full twenty enjoyable puffs before he re-
sumed.
"Now, you're a moral man, Charlie, tell me really
what you think of a fellow marrying a girl he does not
care that for," and he shapt his fingers. "Just for the
sake of her estate — it's the way of the world, of course,
and all that — but, is not it a little bit shabby, don't you
think? Eh? Ha, ha, ha!"
"I'll not debate with you, Wylder, on that stupid old
question. It's the way of the world, as you say, and
there's an end of it."
"They say she's such a beauty! Well, so I believe
she is, but I can't fancy her. Now you must not be an-
gry. I'm not a poet like you — book-learned, you know;
and she's too solemn by half, and grand. I wish she
was different. That other girl, Rachel — she's a devilish
handsome craft. I wish almost she was not here at all,
or I wish she was in Dorcas' shoes."
"Nonsense, Wylder! stop this stuff; and it is grow-
ing cold: throw away that cigar, and come in."
"In a minute. No, I assure you, I'm not joking.
Hang it! I must talk to some one. I'm devilish uncom-
fortable about this grand match. I wish I had not been
led into it. I don't think I'd make a good husband to any
woman I did not fancy, and where's the good of making a
girl unhappy, eh?"
"Tut, Wylder, you ought to have thought of all that
before. I don't like your talking in this strain when you
know it's too late to recede; besides, you are the luckiest
fellow in creation. Upon my word, I don't know why
the girl marries you; you can't suppose that she could
not marry much better, and if you have not made up your
mind to break off, you had better not speak in that way
any more."