“I will tell you. First, you were born and reared in England. Your parents, as you have told me, are bitterly opposed to your marrying an American girl, thinking they are all beneath you. I love America and her laws and the very word liberty.”
“Your country has too much liberty. You see, you have such a mixture here, and they all have the same rights, rich and poor.”
“Yes, and if I had the right to vote I should vote for the man of real worth, whether a prince or a pauper.”
“You would not vote, would you?”
“Certainly.”
“I am shocked, don’t you know? I would never allow my wife to do such a bold act.”
“I suppose not; so we should quarrel. You see, we are quarreling now.”
“Oh, June, darling, we could never quarrel. I admire 121 your face and form just as much as ever, and I know you do not mean half you say.”
“I certainly do mean all I say. You admire my form and face, but not my principles. They are not at all suited to your ideas of propriety, and you see we are not in harmony, and after the romance of marriage had worn off and we became settled in life, there would be jarring and discord, and finally contention. We would be like the keys of an instrument broken and out of tune. Every note struck would fail to harmonize, and the result would be extreme dissatisfaction and general displeasure, and a desire to seek other society, which sooner or later leads to the ruin of one or both.”
“But see how many of our nobility are marrying American heiresses.”