"Ay! It is not a common thing for a nobleman to masquerade as a commoner."
"Then I must claim the merit of originality," said Dan, humorously. "I am but indulging in a freak. Have you ever read 'C[oe]lebs in Search of a Wife,' Mr. Jarner?"
"Hannah More's book? Ay, long ago."
"I am following the example of her hero. As Lord Ardleigh, it is my duty to take to myself a wife and beget heirs, the more especially as if I die the title goes to a scampish cousin of mine, who would drag it in the mud. Now, in London I found great difficulty in getting a wife."
"Ho, ho! Pardon my laughter, Lord--I mean Dan--but you surely jest. With your title, looks, and wealth, you have but to pick and choose."
"That might be; but among all the beauties of the season--of half a dozen seasons--I saw not one with whom I would care to pass my life. I do not regard marriage as a mere ceremony signifying nothing, but as the completion of a man's life, and am therefore hard to please in my choice of a mate."
"Good, good! I am glad to see you consider the responsibilities of life. There is some sense in your head, young man."
"All the women I met were more or less frivolous. They wanted my title, my money, but they did not love me for myself. Under these circumstances, I despaired of meeting one who would love me, and whom I could love. My fate was evidently not to be found in society, so I took the resolution of masquerading as a poor man, and going in search of a wife after the fashion of C[oe]lebs."
"Have you been successful?" asked Jarner, gravely.
"No! The lower orders have their faults as well as the upper classes. I have not yet found my ideal woman. With yonder caravan I have travelled for two summers through the land, and must confess that I like the life extremely well."