The Youth of Jefferson | Page 7

Philippa, that I begin to see some of the advantages you might
enjoy were you a man."
"What are they, pray--more than I have mentioned?" she says coolly.
"You might have more liberty."
"I said as much."
"You might go and see your friends."
"You repeat my words, sir."
"Yes--you might even go and see us at college; listen to my
philosophical discussions after lecture; and take part in Mowbray's
merry jests--an excellent friend of yours, I think."
Philippa looks at him for a moment, hesitating whether she shall stay
and take her revenge. She decides to go in, however; and Jacques and
Belle-bouche follow. We are bound to say that the proposition did not
come from Jacques.
CHAPTER IV.
A POOR YOUNG MAN, AND A RICH YOUNG GIRL.
In the drawing-room sat a gentleman turning over the leaves of a book.
The apartment was decorated after the usual fashion of the olden time.
On the floor was a rich carpet from Antwerp, in the corner a japanned
cabinet; everywhere crooked-legged tables and carved chairs obstructed

the floor, and on the threshold a lap-dog snapped at the flies in his
dreams. Besides, there were portraits of powdered dames, and hideous
china ornaments on the tall narrow mantlepiece; and an embroidered
screen in the recess next the fireplace described with silent eloquence
the life of Arcady.
Mowbray was a young man of twenty-five or six, with a high pale
forehead, dark eyes full of thoughtful intelligence; and his dress was
rather that of a student than a man of the world. It was plain and simple,
and all the colors were subdued. He was a man for a woman to listen to,
rather than laugh with. His manner was calm, perfectly self-possessed,
and his mind seemed to be dwelling upon one dominant idea.
"Good morning, sir," said Philippa, inclining her head indifferently;
"we have a very pleasant day."
Mowbray rose and bowed calmly.
"Yes, madam," he said; "my ride was quite agreeable."
"Any news, sir?"
"None, except a confirmation of those designs of the ministry which are
now causing so much discussion."
"What designs?"
A faint smile passed over Mowbray's calm face.
"Are you quite sure that politics will amuse you?" he said.
"Amuse? no, sir. But you seem to have fallen into the fashionable error,
that ladies only require amusement."
He shook his head.
"You do me injustice," he said; "no man has so high an opinion of your
sex, madam, as I have."

"I doubt it--you deceive yourself."
"Excuse me, but I do not."
"You are one of the lords of creation," said Philippa satirically.
"A very poor lord," he replied calmly.
"Are you poor?" asked Philippa as coolly.
"Yes, madam."
"But you design being rich some day?"
"Yes, madam, if my brain serves me."
"You aspire perhaps to his Majesty's council?"
"No, madam," he replied, with perfect coolness; "were I in public life, I
should most probably be in the opposition."
"A better opening."
"No; but better for one who holds my opinions--better for the
conscience."
"And for the purse?"
"I know not. If you mean that public life holds out pecuniary rewards, I
think you are mistaken."
"Then you will not become rich by politics?"
"I think, madam, that there is little chance of that."
"Still you would wish to be wealthy?"
"Yes, madam."

"You are fond of luxury?"
"Yes, madam."
"Horses, wines, carriages?"
"Excuse me--no."
"What then?"
"The luxury of seeing my orphan sister surrounded with every
comfort."
A flush passed over Philippa's face, and she turned away; but she was
not satisfied.
"There is a very plain and easy way to arrive at wealth, sir," she said;
"law is so slow."
"Please indicate it."
"Marry an heiress."
There was a silence after these words; and Philippa could scarcely
sustain the clear fixed look which he bent upon her face.
"Is that your advice, madam?" he said coldly. "I thank you for it."
His tone piqued her.
"Then follow it," she said.
"Excuse me again."
"Is it not friendly?"
"Possibly, but not to my taste."
"Why, sir?"

"First, because the course you suggest is not very honorable; secondly,
and in another aspect, it is very disgraceful; again, it is too expensive, if
I may be permitted to utter what seems to be, but is not, a very rude and
cynical speech."
"Not honorable--disgraceful--too expensive! Indeed! Why, sir, you at
once exclude heiresses from matrimony."
"Not so, madam."
"Not honorable!"
"I think it is not honorable to acquire wealth, for the best purpose in the
world, by giving the hand and not the heart."
"The hand and the heart!--who speaks of heart in these days? But you
say it is even disgraceful to marry an heiress."
"Not at all; but if a man does not love a woman, is it not