"Charmed, I am sure, to answer it--if I can.""Am I right in supposing that Lord Howel Beaucourt is about half your age?""Yes, dear; my future husband is as nearly as possible half as old as I am."Mrs. Newsham's uneasy virtue shuddered. "What a profanation of marriage!" she exclaimed.
"Nothing of the sort," her friend pronounced positively.
"Marriage, by the law of England (as my lawyer tells me), is nothing but a contract. Who ever heard of profaning a contract?""Call it what you please, Matilda. Do you expect to live a happy life, at your age, with a young man for your husband?""A happy life," Miss Dulane repeated, "because it will be an innocent life." She laid a certain emphasis on the last word but one.
Mrs. Newsham resented the emphasis, and rose to go. Her last words were the bitterest words that she had spoken yet.
"You have secured such a truly remarkable husband, my dear, that I am emboldened to ask a great favor. Will you give me his lordship's photograph?""No," said Miss Dulane, "I won't give you his lordship's photograph.""What is your objection, Matilda?"
