"Well, as far as I can see, you are not to blame. Apologize to the lady for the blunder of your godfathers and godmothers. Stupid old parties! They ought to have thought of Hyacinth;" and Carrol threw his cigar into the fire and began to buckle on his spurs.
"Come with me, Carrol."
"No, thank you. It is against my principles to like anyone better than myself, and Alice Fontaine is a temptation to do so."
"I don't like Alice's style at all."
"Of course not. Alice's beauty, as compared with Mrs. Bethune's settled income, is skin-deep."
If sarcasm was intended, Smith did not perceive it. He took the criticism at its face value, and answered, "Yes, Eleanor's income is satisfactory; and besides that, she has all kinds of good qualities, and several accomplishments. If I only could offer her, with myself, a suitable name for them!"
"Could you not, in taking Mrs. Bethune and her money, take her name also?"
"N-n-no. A man does not like to lose all his individuality in his wife's, Carrol."
"Well, then, I have no other suggestion, and I am going to ride."
So Carrol went to the park, and Smith went to his mirror. The occupation gave him the courage he wanted. He was undoubtedly a very handsome man, and he had, also, very fine manners; indeed, he would have been a very great man if the world had only been a drawing-room, for, polished and fastidious, he dreaded nothing so much as an indecorum, and had the air of being uncomfortable unless his hands were in kid gloves.