the normal wife is something
unique, something the like of which cannot be obtained without
marriage. I saw a man and a woman at a sale the other day; I was too
far off to hear them, but I could perceive they were having a most
lively argument--perhaps it was only about initials on pillowcases;
they were _absorbed_ in themselves; the world did not exist for them.
And I thought: "What miraculous exquisite Force is it that brings
together that strange, sombre, laconic organism in a silk hat and a
loose, black overcoat, and that strange, bright, vivacious, querulous,
irrational organism in brilliant fur and feathers?" And when they
moved away the most interesting phenomenon in the universe moved away.
And I thought: "Just as no beer is bad, but some beer is better than
other beer, so no marriage is bad." The chief reward of marriage is
something which marriage is bound to give--companionship whose
mysterious _interestingness_ nothing can stale. A man may hate his
wife so that she can't thread a needle without annoying him, but when
he dies, or she dies, he will say: "Well, _I was interested_." And one
always is. Said a bachelor of forty-six to me the other night:
"Anything is better than the void."

THE TWO WAYS OF IT

Sabine and other summary methods of marrying being now abandoned by
all nice people, there remain two broad general ways. The first is the
English way. We let nature take her course. We give heed to the
heart's cry. When, amid the hazards and accidents of the world, two
souls "find each other," we rejoice. Our instinctive wish is that they
shall marry, if the matter can anyhow be arranged. We frankly
recognise the claim of romance in life, and we are prepared to make
sacrifices to it. We see a young couple at the altar; they are in
love. Good! They are poor. So much the worse! But nevertheless we feel
that love will pull them through. The revolting French system of
bargain and barter is the one thing that we can neither comprehend nor
pardon in the customs of our great neighbours. We endeavour to be
polite about that system; we simply cannot. It shocks our finest,
tenderest feelings. It is so obviously contrary to nature.

The second is the French way, just alluded to as bargain and barter.
Now, if there is one thing a Frenchman can neither comprehend nor
pardon in the customs of a race so marvellously practical and sagacious
as ourselves, it is the English marriage system. He endeavours to be
polite a