“‘My dear child, if there were no folly in the world it would be a stupid place, and I for one should want to move,’ I said. ‘Some never discover their own follies, and they are hopeless. You are as wise as you are dear. It’s in your power to do a lot of good. Think what you’ve already accomplished. 63 I wish you would continue to help us discourage foolish display in America.
“‘Are there any more chestnuts in the fire?’ she asked, with a laugh. ‘Not that I’m afraid. I suppose the fire is good for me.’
“‘Marie, I love your fingers too well to burn them unduly,’ I said. ‘By the way, I expect that Harry Delance will be wanting to marry you soon.’
“‘Harry!’ she exclaimed. ‘I talked him to death––and out of the notion––long ago, and I’m not sorry. He isn’t my kind.’
“‘Harry’s a good fellow,’ I insisted.
“‘But he’s so dreadfully nice––such a hopeless aristocrat! Grandfather would have a fit. I want a big, full-blooded, brawny chap, who isn’t a slave to his coat and trousers––the kind of man you’ve talked so much about––one who could get his hands dirty and be a gentleman. I’m 64 longing for the outdoor life––and the outdoor man to live it with me.’
“‘Give Harry a chance––his uneducation had only just begun,’ I urged.
“I left Marie with a rather serious look in her face, and began to wonder how I should accomplish the uneducation of Harry.
“That young man came to see me, in a day or two, at our home. My new set of Smollett lay on the piano, and he greatly admired it. Above all things Harry loved books, and his specialty was Smollett; he had read every tale in the series, at college, and made a mark with his thesis on ‘The Fathers of English Fiction.’ He spent an hour of delight with those books of mine. Then he said to me:
“‘Only fifty copies printed?’