‘Ye-es,’ said Oswald, ‘but if she smiled at me sweetly I should forgive her the dinner; and she should do as she pleased; only I should like her, of course, to please me.’ ‘And you would take her to the opera, and to parties--and give up your club, perhaps--and you would take a great deal of trouble in furnishing your house, and altogether enjoy yourself.’ ‘Very much indeed, I promise you,’ said the young man, rubbing his hands. ‘And now she is not enjoying herself at all,’ said Cara; ‘working very hard among the poor children, going to visit sick people in the hospital. Oh, yes, there would be a difference! The wife would be much the most comfortable.’ ‘I don’t like girls to be satirical,’ said Oswald. ‘It puts them out of harmony, out of drawing. Now _she_ said something like that. She asked me in her pretty way if it would be better to make one man happy than to serve a great number of people, and take care of those that had nobody to take care of them. That was what she said; but she did not laugh, nor put on a satirical tone.’ ‘That shows only that she is better than I am,’ said Cara, slightly angry still; ‘but not that I am wrong. Your wife! it might be nice enough. I can’t tell; but it would not be a great life--a life for others, like what, perhaps, she is trying for now.’ ‘You are complimentary, Cara,’ said Oswald, half offended. ‘After all, I don’t think it would be such a very bad business. I shall take good care of my wife, never fear. She _shall_ enjoy herself. Don’t you know,’ he added with a laugh, ‘that everybody thinks you and I are going to make it up between us?’ Cara turned away. ‘You ought not to let anyone think so,’ she said. ‘What harm does it do? It amuses everybody, keeping them on the stretch for news. They think we are actually engaged. The times that Edward has tried to get it out of me--all particulars--and my mother too. It is far too good a joke not to keep it up.’ ‘But, Oswald, I don’t like it. It is not right.’ ‘Oh, don’t be so particular, Cara. I shall believe you are going to be an old maid, like Aunt Cherry, if you are so precise. Why, what possible harm can it do? It is only keeping them on the rack of curiosity while we are laughing in our sleeves. Besides, after all, Cara _mia_, it is just a chance, you know, that it did not come to pass. If it had not been for _her_, and that she turned up just when she did----’ ‘I am much obliged to you, Oswald. You think, then, that it all depends upon you, and that the moment it pleased you to throw your handkerchief----’