"Perhaps you would not object to a merchant tailor?"
"Perhaps I would, though! A tailor's a tailor, and that is all you can make of him. 'Merchant tailor!' Why not say merchant shoemaker, or merchant boot-black? Isn't it ridiculous?"
"Ah well, Kate," said Aunt Prudence, "you may be thankful if you get an honest, industrious, kind-hearted man for a husband, be he a tailor or a shoemaker. I've seen many a heart-broken wife in my day whose husband was not a tailor. It isn't in the calling, child, that you must look for honour or excellence, but in the man. As Burns says—'The man's the goud for a' that.'"
"But a man wouldn't stoop to be a tailor."
"You talk like a thoughtless, silly girl, as you are, Kate. But time will take all this nonsense out of you, or I am very much mistaken. I could tell you a story about marrying a tailor, that would surprise you a little."
"I should like, above all things in the world, to hear a story of any interest, in which a tailor was introduced."
"I think I could tell you one."
"Please do, aunt. It would be such a novelty. A very rara avis., as brother Tom says. I shall laugh until my sides ache."
"If you don't cry, Kate, I shall wonder," said Aunt Prudence, looking grave.
"Cry? oh, dear! And all about a tailor! But tell the story, aunt."