“But then, Mr. Booth is not like you in any respect, either in taste or ideas?”
“That is one of the reasons that makes me think we might do very well together. Two people who were much alike would soon be tired of one another, don’t you think so?”
“I think, my dear Bertha, you first made up your mind, and then found all these fine reasons to support you afterwards. You ask my advice, but what you really want is my approval. I give you, instead, my congratulations. The wife of a poor man you might have been, as you know, any time these two years, but I saw clearly that in such case you would always have been regretting that fortune which you might have had. Now you are marrying a man of money. I hope it will turn out as you wish, that the gold will gild your future; but, as in a marriage of poverty I clearly foresaw on your part a life of regrets, so in this other union I have the same misgiving.”
“Then what am I to do, Pro? Shall I remain single?”
“No, my dear, by no means. For a girl above all it is better that she should marry if she can wisely do so. I cannot give you my wisdom, no one can. Wisdom can be bought only by experience. There is no other price. So marry, my dear; be happy while you can, and remember if troubles and trials come that they are your life lessons, to be met bravely, not as evils, but as disguised friends.”
“You ought to have been a parson, Pro,” said Bertha, with tears in her eyes. “You are always so serious. Now, tell me honestly, don’t you think Alec is a fine-looking man?”
* * * * *
Alec Booth was not the man to hide his good fortune. All his friends, more particularly those at the Golden Bar, were soon acquainted with the news of his proposed marriage to Bertha Summerhayes.
Ruby wished him joy, and hoped very kindly he would not be deceived in the object of his affections. And when he inquired what she meant, replied—
“Oh, nothing! Of course, Bertha is an angel—a little chipped, perhaps. It’s about time she settled down, and, like a wise girl, she knows it.”