“That is the trouble. If they could only be dogs, or any other reasonable, useful, or inoffensive creature! But alas! a good boy is an unnatural boy. Now, Rose, where did your memory stray?”
“To Letitia Landon’s wedding. She married Mr. Landon because he was rich, and I was remembering her old lover, Horace Key, standing in the aisle, watching the wedding. There were three at that wedding, I think.”
“And in such cases, two is matrimony, and three divorce. As to your memories, Harry? Are they repeatable?”
“I was thinking of the insane pace and frivolities of the past season; and if I had not spoken, I should have got as far as a reflection on the bliss of a quiet country life, like the present.”
“You must remember, Harry, that the ‘frivolity’ of the multitude is never frivolous—it portends too much.”
“And pray, sir, in what direction went your memory?”
“No further than the ferry boat. It gave me, this morning, an opportunity of studying human nature, in its betting aspect.”
“What did you think of it, sir?”
“I thought instantly of Disraeli’s definition of the Turf:—‘this institution for national demoralization.’”