“You aspired to some great distinction as a politician, or a soldier, or perhaps a sailor?” “No, by Jove! never dreamed of it,” burst he in, laughing at the very idea. “You sighed for some advancement in rank, or perhaps it was great wealth?” “There you have it! Plenty of money--lots of ready--with that all the rest comes easy.” “It must be very delightful, no doubt, to indulge every passing caprice, without ever counting the cost; but, after a while, what a spoilt-child weariness would come over one from all this cloying enjoyment,--how tiresome would it be to shorten the journey between will and accomplishment, and make of life a mere succession of 'tableaux'! I 'd rather strive and struggle and win.” “Ay, but one does n't always win,” broke he in. “I believe one does--if one deserves it; and even when one does not, the battle is a fine thing. How much sympathy, I ask you, have we for those classic heroes who are always helped out of their difficulties by some friendly deity? What do we feel for him who, in the thick of the fight, is sure to be rescued by a goddess in a cloud?” “I confess I do like a good 'book,' 'hedged' well all round, and standing to win somewhere. I mean,” added he, in an explanatory tone, “I like to be safe in this world.” “Stand on the bank of the stream, then, and let bolder hearts push across the river!” “Well, but I 'm rather out of patience,” said he, in a tone of half irritation. “I 've had many a venture in life, and too many of them unfortunate ones.” “How I do wonder,” said she, after a pause, “that you and papa are such great friends; for I have rarely heard of two people who take such widely different notions of life. _You_ seem to me all caution and reserve; _he_, all daring and energy.” “That's the reason, perhaps, we suit each other so well,” said Beecher, laughing. “It may be so,” said she, thoughtfully; and now there was silence between them. “Have you got sisters, Mr. Beecher?” said she, at length. “No; except I may call my brother's wife one.” “Tell me of her. Is she young?--is she handsome?” “She is not young, but she is still a very handsome woman.” “Dark or fair?” “Very dark, almost Spanish in complexion; a great deal of haughtiness in her look, but great courtesy when she pleases.” “Would she like me?” “Of course she would,” said he, with a smile and a bow; but a flush covered his face at the bare thought of their meeting. “I 'm not so certain you are telling the truth there,” said she, laughing; “and yet you know there can be no offence in telling me I should not suit some one I have never seen; do, then, be frank with me, and say what would she think of me.” “To begin,” said he, laughing, “she 'd say you were very beautiful--” “'Exquisitely beautiful,' was the phrase of that old gentleman that got into the next carriage; and I like it better.” “Well, exquisitely beautiful,--the perfection of gracefulness,--and highly accomplished.”