rs.
Tracy to conclude, that she would be a catch for either of her sons;
and, as for the girl herself, she had clearly been brought up to order
about a multitude of servants, to command the use of splendid equipages,
and to spend money with unsparing hand.

Accordingly, one day when Julian was alone with his mother, their
conversation ran as follows:

"Well, Julian dear, and what do you think of Emily Warren?"

"Think, mother? why--that she's deuced pretty, and dresses like an
empress: but where did the general pick her up, eh?--who is she?"

"Why, as to who she is--I know no more than you; she is Emily Warren:
but as to the great question of what she is, I know that she is rolling
in riches, and would make one of my boys a very good wife."

"Oh, as to wife, mother, one isn't going to be fool enough to marry for
love now-a-days: things are easier managed hereabouts, than that: but
money makes it quite another thing. So, this pretty minx is rich, is
she?"

"A great heiress, I assure you, Julian."

"Bravo, bravo-o! but how to make the girl look sweet upon me, mother?
There's that white-livered fellow, Charles--"

"Never mind him, boy; do you suppose he would have the heart to make
love to such a splendid creature as Miss Warren: fy, Julian, for a faint
heart: Charles is well enough as a Sabbath-school teacher, but I hope he
will not bear away the palm of a ladye-love from my fine high-spirited
Julian." Poor Mrs. Tracy was as flighty and romantic at forty-five as
she had been at fifteen.

The fine high-spirited Julian answered not a word, but looked
excessively cross; for he knew full well that Charles's chance was to
his in the ratio of a million to nothing.

"What, boy," went on the prudent mother, "still silent! I am afraid
Emily's good looks have been thrown away upon you, and that your heart
has not found out how to love her."

"Love her, mother? Curses! would you drive me mad? I think and dream of
nothing but that girl: morning, noon, and night, her eyes persecute me:
go where I will, and do what I will, her image haunts me: d----n it,
mother' don't I love the girl?"

[Oh love, love! thou much-slandered monosyllable, how desperately do bad
men malign thee!]

"Hush, Julian; pray be more guarded in your language; I am glad to see
though that your heart is in the right place: suppose now that I aid
your suit a little? I dare say I could do a great deal for you, my son;
and nothing could be more delightf