The Youth of Jefferson | Page 8

disgraceful in
the full sense of that word, madam, to unite himself to her, or rather to
her money bags, only that he may procure the means of living in luxury,
and gratifying his expensive tastes and vices?"
"If he does not love her, you say. Love! that is a very pretty word, and
rhymes, I believe, to dove! Well, sir, you have endeavored to establish
your point by the aid of two delightful phrases, 'the hand and not the
heart'--'the man who does not love a woman'--beautiful words, only I
don't believe in them. Now be good enough to explain your third
point:--how is it too 'expensive' to marry a wealthy woman? I know
you gentlemen at the college are inveterate logicians, and find little
difficulty in proving that twice two's five, and that black is
irreproachable white--that fire is cold--ice, hot--smoke, heavy--and lead
light as thistle-down. Still I imagine you will find it difficult to show
that 'tis expensive to marry, let us say, fifty thousand pounds a year!"
Mowbray looked at her face a moment, and sighed; a great hope
seemed to be leaving him; when he spoke, it was with manifest
repugnance.

"Let us dismiss this singular subject, madam," he said calmly; "I spoke
too thoughtlessly. See that lovely humming-bird around the
honeysuckle, searching in vain for honey."
"As I do for your reasons, sir," said Philippa curtly.
"My reasons?"
"You refuse to explain----"
"Well, well--I see you will compel me to speak. Well, madam, my
meaning is very simple. When I say that it is too 'expensive' to unite
oneself to a woman solely because that woman has for her portion a
great fortune, a large income, every luxury and elegance to endow her
husband with--I mean simply that if this woman be uncongenial, if her
husband care nothing for her, only her fortune, then that he will
necessarily be unhappy, and that unhappiness is cheaply bought with
millions. Money only goes a certain way--tell me when it bought a
heart! Mine, madam, it will never buy at least--if you will permit me to
utter a sentence in such bad taste. And now let us abandon this
discussion, which leads us into such serious moods."
She turned away, and looked through the window.
Two birds were playfully contending in the air, and filling the groves
with their joyous carolling.
"How free they are!" she murmured.
"The birds? Yes, madam, they live in delightful liberty, as we of
America will, I trust, some day."
"I wonder if they're married," said Philippa laughing, and refusing to
enter upon the wrongs of England toward the colonies; "they are
fighting, I believe, and thus I presume they are united in marriage--by
some parson Crow!"
Mowbray only smiled slightly, and looked at his watch.

"What! not going!" cried Philippa.
"Pardon," he said; "I just rode out for an hour. We have a lecture in half
an hour."
"And you prefer the excellent Dr. Small or some other reverend
gentleman to myself--the collegiate to the sylvan, the male to the
female lecturer?"
He smiled wearily.
"Our duties are becoming more exacting," he said; "the examination is
approaching."
"I should suppose so--you have not been to see me for a whole week."
A flush passed over Mowbray's brow; then it became as pale as before.
"Our acquaintance has not been an extended one," he said; "I could not
intrude upon your society."
"Intrude!"
And abandoning completely her laughing cynical manner, Philippa
gave him a look which made him tremble. Why was that excitement?
Because he thought he had fathomed her; because he had convinced
himself that she was a coquette, amusing herself at his expense;
because he saw all his dreams, his illusions, his hopes pass away with
the fleeting minutes. He replied simply:
"Yes, madam--even now I fear I am trespassing upon your time; you
probably await my departure to betake yourself to your morning's
amusement. I was foolish enough to imagine that I had not completely
lost my powers of conversation, buried as I have been in books. I was
mistaken--I no longer jest--I am a poor companion. Then," he added,
"we are so uncongenial--at least this morning. I will come some day
when I am gay, and you sad--then we shall probably approximate in
mood, and until then farewell."

She would have detained him; "Don't go!" was on her lips; but at the
moment when Mowbray bowed low, a shout of laughter was heard in
the passage, and three persons entered--Jacques, Belle-bouche, and Sir
Asinus.
CHAPTER V.
IN WHICH SIR ASINUS MAKES AS IGNOMINIOUS RETREAT.
Sir Asinus was apparently in high spirits, and smoothed the nap of his
cocked hat with his sleeve--the said sleeve being of Mecklenburg
silk--in a way which indicated the summit of felicity.
He seemed to inhale the