‘Cela depend,’ said the brother.

‘Will you marry a wife with money?’

‘At any rate,’ said he, ‘I won’t marry one without; wives with money a’nt so easy to get now–a–days; the parsons pick them all up.’

‘And a parson will pick up the wife I meant for you, if you do not look quickly about it; the wife I mean is Mrs Bold.’

‘Whew–w–w–w!’ whistled Bertie, ‘a widow!’

‘She is very beautiful,’ said Charlotte.

‘With a son and heir already to my hand,’ said Bertie.

‘A baby that will very likely die,’ said Charlotte.

‘I don’t see that,’ said Bertie. ‘But however, he may live for me—I don’t wish to kill him; only, it must be owned that a ready–made family is a drawback.’

‘There is only one after all,’ pleaded Charlotte.

‘And that a very little one, as the maid–servant said,’ rejoined Bertie.

‘Beggars mustn’t be choosers, Bertie; you can’t have everything.’

‘God knows I am not unreasonable,’ said he, ‘nor yet opinionated; and if you’ll arrange it for me, Lotte, I’ll marry the lady. Only mark this: the money must be sure, and the income at my own disposal, at any rate for the lady’s life.’

Charlotte was explaining to her brother that he must make love for himself if he meant to carry on the matter, and was encouraging him to so, by warm eulogiums on Eleanor’s beauty, when the signora was brought into the drawing–room. When at home, and subject to the gaze of none but her own family, she allowed herself to be dragged about by two persons, and her two bearers now deposited her on the sofa. She was not quite so grand in her apparel as she had been at the bishop’s party, but yet she was dressed with much care, and though there was a look of care and pain about her eyes, she, was, even by daylight, extremely beautiful.

‘Well, Madeline; so I’m going to be married,’ Bertie began, as soon as the servants had withdrawn.

‘There’s no other foolish thing left, that you haven’t done,’ said Madeline, ‘and therefore you are quite right to try that.’

‘Oh, you think it’s a foolish thing, do you?’ said he. ‘There’s Lotte advising me to marry by all means. But on such a subject your opinion ought to be the best; you have experience to guide you.’

‘Yes, I have,’ said Madeline, with a sort of harsh sadness in her tone, which seemed to say—What is it to you if I am sad? I have never asked your sympathy.

Bertie was sorry when he saw that she was hurt by what he said, and he came and squatted on the floor close before her face to make his peace with her.

‘Come, Mad, I was only joking; you know that. But in sober earnest, Lotte is advising me to marry. She wants me to marry Mrs Bold. She’s a widow with lots of tin, a fine baby, a beautiful complexion, and