"Excellent—ha, ha!" laughed Captain Ponsonby. "I can disprove the charge, Miss Wetheral. I was in love three whole days, once, at Castlebar."
"And why so speedy a cure?" Christobelle demanded.
"The lady kept silence three days," he replied, "but, on the fourth morning, the charm dissolved, for she spoke."
"What could she have spoken, to break a spell so powerful, Captain Ponsonby?"
"I met the lady in a pouring rain, and, though I had not been introduced to her, we had met often, and were acquainted by name and sight. I offered her my escort and my umbrella. 'Ah, now, Captain Ponsonby, there's rason in what you say, and I'll be obleeged to you'—was her good-humoured reply. I could bear the brogue tolerably, Miss Wetheral, for six months' residence had enured me to its twang; but I could not away with the perfect nonchalance with which she exhibited a pair of enormous ancles, and appealed to me upon their use. 'Ah now, Captain Ponsonby, if I've got no understanding above, there's plenty below, and I'll be charged for two pair of legs through the penny turnpikes.' Farewell the glowing complexion and bright eyes of my love!—I never more gazed upon Miss M'Nab."
"Was that your only enlargement of heart, Captain Ponsonby?"
"Some few relapses there might have been, but none of any consideration. Miss M'Nab was the most serious love."
"You are difficult to please."
"No, I think not; but I desire to find a sufficiently lovely woman, with sweetness of temper, and delicacy of manners, to love with constancy. If I ever love sincerely, it will be my life-strings—the very breath of my life."