he War Office."

"I know it is difficult, for the counter influence is vigilant and
strong; but, on the other hand, the enemy is so damnable a traitor that
one must have the Fates and the household gods on one's side."

"Nevertheless," said the practical Audley, bending over a book on the
table; "I think that the best plan would be to attempt a compromise with
the traitor."

"To judge of others by myself," answered Harley, with spirit, "it
were less bitter to put up with wrong than to palter with it for
compensation. And such wrong! Compromise with the open foe--that maybe
done with honour; but with the perjured friend--that were to forgive the
perjury!"

"You are too vindictive," said Egerton; "there may be excuses for the
friend, which palliate even--"

"Hush! Audley, hush! or I shall think the world has indeed corrupted
you. Excuse for the friend who deceives, who betrays! No, such is the
true outlaw of Humanity; and the Furies surround him even while he
sleeps in the temple."

The man of the world lifted his eyes slowly on the animated face of one
still natural enough for the passions. He then once more returned to his
book, and said, after a pause, "It is time you should marry, Harley."

"No," answered L'Estrange, with a smile at this sudden turn in the
conversation, "not time yet; for my chief objection to that change in
life is, that the women nowadays are too old for me, or I am too young
for them. A few, indeed, are so infantine that one is ashamed to be
their toy; but most are so knowing that one is afraid to be their dupe.
The first, if they condescend to love you, love you as the biggest doll
they have yet dandled, and for a doll's good qualities,--your pretty
blue eyes and your exquisite millinery. The last, if they prudently
accept you, do so on algebraical principles; you are but the X or the
Y that represents a certain aggregate of goods matrimonial,--pedigree,
title, rent-roll, diamonds, pin-money, opera-box. They cast you up with
the help of mamma, and you wake some morning to find that plus wife
minus affection equals--the Devil!"

"Nonsense," said Audley, with his quiet, grave laugh. "I grant that it
is often the misfortune of a man in your station to be married rather
for what he has than for what he is; but you are tolerably penetrating,
and not likely to be deceived in the character of the woman you court."

"Of the woman I court?--No! But of the woman I marry, very likely
indeed! Woman