e.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Frank Mathew displays his Ignorance.]

Ignorance--says some wiseacre--is the mother of eloquence, and I take it
that the less one knows of Love the easier it is to write of it. I side
with those who hold that the Love described by poets and other wordy
people is mainly fanciful, a flattering picture, that the best school
for such writing is an unhappy affection, and that no man can want
better luck than to have his heart broken, and so be made proof against
lovesickness. An unrequited love runs no risk of being dulled by the
prose of life. A man so fortunate as to be jilted or rejected finds his
Beloved remaining beautiful and young to him when her husband sees her
an unwieldy and wearisome old woman. And when at times he grows
sentimental--a bachelor's privilege--he can feel again the old hopes
that he never found false, and see the old perfections that were never
disproved. He has a life-companion who comes only when she is wanted,
and then with a "smile on her face and a rose in her hair," whose voice
is always gentle, to whom wrinkles are not necessary and bills are
not known.

[Sidenote: And praises ugliness.]

I am one of those who prefer the luckless adorers in novels to the
conquering heroes; and hold that the quality an ideal lover needs most
is ugliness, so that he may honour beauty the more. Once I knew a boy
who was uglier than sin, and who wrote a story--in a sprawling hand and
on ruled paper--a wonderful story, telling how an unlovely but admirable
Knight, worshipping a Princess, rode out to win her by great deeds, and
how when he came back triumphant, the sight of her brought his
unworthiness home to him so that he dared not claim her. And I knew
another boy who was good-looking, and wrote a story (during study-time,
of course, and by stealth) about a handsome hero who went to Court in
fine clothes, and was worshipped by all the girls. I think now that he
was the manlier, but that the first would have made the more devout
lover. But the drawback of luckless adorers is that their constancy has
not been tried by the ordeal of success. Many a fellow who lived loyal
and heart-broken would have made an unfaithful husband.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: 'Q.' is surprised at his sister.]

Love, no doubt, is a subject of popular interest, but a man is always
staggered to find his sister holding an opinion upon it. If I rememb