You want the polish and ease that social life will
give you."

"I feel that, Wilton. But I fear I am too old now to have all the
rough corners knocked off, and worn smooth."

"O, don't despair. You'll make a ladies' man after awhile, if you
persevere, and become more particular in your dress. But, to change
the subject, a little, tell me what you think of Cara Linton? Her
father is worth a plum, and she is just the showy, brilliant woman,
of which a man like me ought to be proud of."

"As you ask me, Charles, I must reply candidly. I would think her a
dear bargain with all her father's money thrown in with her; and as
to your other reasons for thinking of her as a wife, I consider
them, to speak plainly, as I always do to you, despicable!"

"And why so, Mr. Philosopher?"

"A wife should be chosen from much higher considerations than these.
What do you want with a brilliant, showy wife? You marry, or ought
to marry, a companion for yourself--not a woman for the world to
admire."

"You are too matter-of-fact, by half, Walter. Your common sense
ideas, as you call them, will keep you grubbing in a mole hill all
your life.

"I should like to see the woman _you_ would choose for a wife!"

"I wish you had a few of these common sense ideas you despise so
much. I am afraid, Charles, that the time is not very distant when
you will stand sadly in need of them."

"Don't trouble yourself, Walter. I'll take care of number one. Let
me alone for that. But, I should like to know your serious
objections to Cara? You sweep her aside with one wave of your hand,
as if she were too insignificant to be thought of for a moment."

"I said that _I_ should consider her a dear bargain, and so I
would--for she would not suit me at all."

"Ah, there I believe you. But come, let me hear why she would not
suit you."

"Because she has no correct and common sense estimation of life and
its relations. She is full of poetry and romance, and fashion, and
show, and 'all that kind of thing;' none of which, without a great
deal of the salt of common sense, would suit me."

"Common sense! Common sense! Common sense! That is your hobby.
Verily, Walter, you are a monomaniac on the subject of common sense;
but, as for me, I will leave common sense to common people. I go in
for uncommon sense."

"The poorest and most unprofitable sense of all, let me tell you.
And one of these days you will discover it to be so."

"It is no use for us to compa