n, looked
with her at the moon, and wrote another sonnet, addressed 'To the loved
one.'"

"Such men----" exclaimed Mrs. Pierce Bradshaw. She did not finish the
sentence, but looked as if such men ought to be exterminated. And so
they ought!

"There was so much about him that I liked: his fine talents, good
manners, excellent position in society, added to his good nature,
and----"

"Good fortune," added Mrs. Pierce Bradshaw.

"No, Mary," said her husband, quietly, "I never was a _mammon
worshipper_. This occurred, if you remember, before the yellow
pestilence had so completely subverted London, that the very aristocracy
knelt and worshipped the golden calf; and no blame to the calf to
_receive_ the homage, whatever we may say of those who paid it.

"I did not mean _that_ as a reproof, Pierce," replied his wife, most
truly. "_I_ think it quite natural to like young men of fortune--we
could not get on without them, you know; and it would be very
imprudent--very imprudent, indeed--to invite any young man, however
excellent. When we want to get these young girls, our poor nieces, off,
I declare it is quite melancholy. Jane is becoming _serious_ since she
has grown so thin; and I fear the men will think Belle a blue, she has
so taken to the British Museum. Oh, how I wish people would live, and
bring up, and get off their own daughters! Four marriageable nieces,
with such farthing fortunes, are enough to drive any poor aunt
distracted!"

This was the longest speech Mrs. Bradshaw ever made in her life, and she
sighed deeply at its conclusion.

"You may well sigh!" laughed the gentleman; "for the case seems
hopeless. But I was going to say, that as I knew him better, I was
really going to take the young gentleman a little to task on the score
of his philandering. Lelia was really attached to him, and had refused a
very advantageous offer for his sake; but the very next week, at another
house, I found him enchained by a sparkling widow--correcting her
drawings, paying the homage of intelligent silence and sweet smiles to
her wit, leaning his white-gloved hand upon her chair, and looking in
her eyes with his most bewitching softness. The extent of this
flirtation no one could anticipate; but the sudden appearance of Lady
Di' Johnson effected a total change. She drove four-in-hand, and was a
dead shot--the very antipodes of sentiment. We said her laugh would
drive Edward Layton distracted, and her _cigarette_ be his death