“That may all be true; but, if it has been his misfortune to lose one partner, a second——”
“And a third, Ned, a third—why not foot the bill at once, as they say in the market?”
“Well, a third, too, if circumstances make that demand on him.[him.] Anything is better than leaving the affections to stagnate for want of cultivation.”
“Adam in Paradise, by Jove!—But, I’ll not reproach you again, since you have got so gentle and kind a creature, and one who is twenty years your junior——”
“Only eighteen, if you please, Mr. Dunscomb.”
“Now, I should be glad to know whether you have added those two years to the bride’s age, or subtracted them from that of the bridegroom! I suppose the last, however, as a matter of course.”
“I do not well see how you can suppose any such thing, knowing my age as well as you do. Mrs. McBrain is forty-two, an age when a woman can be as loveable as at nineteen—more so, if her admirer happens to be a man of sense.”
“And sixty-two. Well, Ned, you are incorrigible; and, for the sake of the excellent woman who has consented to have you, I only hope this will be the last exhibition of your weakness. So they talk a good deal of Mary Monson, up and down the country, do they?”
“Of little else, I can assure you. I am sorry to say, the tide seems to be setting strongly against her.”
“That is bad news; as few jurors, now-a-days, are superior to such an influence. What is said, in particular, Dr. McBrain?—In the way of facts, I mean?”