d a surprising
way of proving, when balanced, to be less than he expected.

"Well,--not exactly."

"In other words, then, Mr. Pickersgill, you are a young and absolutely
untried man; you are in your father's employ and practically at his
mercy; you propose a great change in your life of which you do not
know that he approves; you have no resources of your own, and you are
not even sure of your earning capacity if your father's backing were
withdrawn. In these circumstances you plan to double your expenses and
assume the whole responsibility of another person's life, comfort, and
happiness. Do you think that you have shown {15} me that your
qualifications are adequate?"

All this was more than a little disconcerting. Oliver was used to
being accepted as old Pickersgill's only son which meant a cheerfully
accorded background of eminence, ability, and comfortable wealth. It
had not occurred to him to detach himself from that background and see
how he looked when separated from it. He felt a little angry, and also
a little ashamed of the fact that he did not bulk larger as a
personage, apart from his environment. Nevertheless, he answered her
question honestly.

"No, Mrs. Lannithorne, I don't think that I have."

She did not appear to rejoice in his discomfiture. She even seemed a
little sorry for it, but she went on quietly:--

{16}

"Don't think I am trying to prove that you are the most ineligible
young man in the city. But it is absolutely necessary that a man
should stand on his own feet, and firmly, before he undertakes to look
after other lives than his own. Otherwise there is nothing but misery
for the women and children who depend upon him. It is a serious
business, getting married."

"I begin to think it is," muttered Oliver blankly.

"I don't _want_ my daughters to marry," said Mrs. Lannithorne. "The
life is a thousand times harder than that of the self-supporting woman
--harder work, fewer rewards, less enjoyment, less security. That is
true even of an ordinarily happy marriage. And if they are not happy
--oh, the bitterness of them!"

She was speaking rapidly now, with {17} energy, almost with anguish.
Oliver, red in the face, subdued, but eager to refute her out of the
depths and heights of his inexperience, held him self rigidly still
and listened.

"Did you ever hear that epigram of Disraeli--that all men should
marry, but no women? That is what I believe! At least, if women must
marry, let o