III.—A dowry of three hundred thousand.
IV.—Caroline's only sister, a little dunce of twelve, a sickly child, who bids fair to fill an early grave.
V.—Your own fortune, father-in-law (in certain kinds of society they say papa father-in-law) yielding an income of twenty thousand, and which will soon be increased by an inheritance.
VI.—Your wife's fortune, which will be increased by two inheritances —from her uncle and her grandfather. In all, thus:
Three inheritances and interest, 750,000
Your fortune, 250,000
Your wife's fortune, 250,000
__________
Total, 1,250,000
which surely cannot take wing!
Such is the autopsy of all those brilliant marriages that conduct their processions of dancers and eaters, in white gloves, flowering at the button-hole, with bouquets of orange flowers, furbelows, veils, coaches and coach-drivers, from the magistrate's to the church, from the church to the banquet, from the banquet to the dance, from the dance to the nuptial chamber, to the music of the orchestra and the accompaniment of the immemorial pleasantries uttered by relics of dandies, for are there not, here and there in society, relics of dandies, as there are relics of English horses? To be sure, and such is the osteology of the most amorous intent.
The majority of the relatives have had a word to say about this marriage.
Those on the side of the bridegroom: