ant, and
also left as abruptly; and now you have come, I most earnestly hope not to
fly away in the same fashion.'

'No; I mean to eat my breakfast, and so far to keep you company.'

'I thank the tea-urn for my good fortune,' said he solemnly.

'A _tete-a-tete_ with Mr. Atlee is a piece of good-luck,' said Nina, as she
sat down. 'Has anything occurred to call our hosts away?'

'In a house like this,' said he jocularly, 'where people are marrying or
giving in marriage at every turn, what may not happen? It may be a question
of the settlement, or the bridecake, or white satin "slip"--if that's the
name for it--the orange-flowers, or the choice of the best man--who knows?'

'You seem to know the whole bead-roll of wedding incidents.'

'It is a dull _repertoire_ after all, for whether the piece be melodrama,
farce, genteel comedy, or harrowing tragedy, it has to be played by the
same actors.'

'What would you have--marriages cannot be all alike. There must be many
marriages for things besides love: for ambition, for interest, for money,
for convenience.'

'Convenience is exactly the phrase I wanted and could not catch.'

'It is not the word _I_ wanted, nor do I think we mean the same thing by
it.'

'What I mean is this,' said Atlee, with a firm voice, 'that when a young
girl has decided in her own mind that she has had enough of that social
bondage of the daughter, and cannot marry the man she would like, she will
marry the man that she can.'

'And like him too,' added Nina, with a strange, dubious sort of smile.

'Yes, and like him too; for there is a curious feature in the woman's
nature that, without any falsehood or disloyalty, permits her to like
different people in different ways, so that the quiet, gentle, almost
impassive woman might, if differently mated, have been a being of fervid
temper, headstrong and passionate. If it were not for this species of
accommodation, marriage would be a worse thing than it is.'

'I never suspected you of having made a study of the subject. Since when
have you devoted your attention to the theme?'

'I could answer in the words of Wilkes--since I have had the honour to
know your Royal Highness; but perhaps you might be displeased with the
flippancy.'

'I should think that very probable,' said she gravely.

'Don't look so serious. Remember that I did not commit myself after all.'

'I thought it was possible to discuss this problem without a personality.'

'Don't yo