“But I don't _feel_ tired. I am not conscious of any weariness,” said he, pettishly. “I suspect that you are not a very acute physiognomist, Hankes. I have told you,” added he, hastily, “I shall want some twelve or fifteen thousand pounds soon. Look out, too, for any handsome country-seat--in the South, I should prefer it--that may be in the market I 'll not carry out my intentions about Kellett's Court. It is a tumble-down old concern, and would cost us more in repairs than a handsome house fit to inhabit.” “Am I to have the honor of offering my felicitations, sir?” said Hankes, obsequiously; “are the reports of the newspapers as to a certain happy event to be relied on?” “You mean as to my marriage? Yes, perfectly true. I might, in a mere worldly point of view, have looked higher,--not higher, certainly not,--but I might have contracted what many would have called a more advantageous connection; in fact, I might have had any amount of money I could care for, but I determined for what I deemed the wiser course. You are probably not aware that this is a very long attachment. Lady Augusta and myself have been as good as engaged to each other for--for a number of years. She was very young when we met first,--just emerging from early girlhood; but the sentiment of her youthful choice has never varied, and, on _my_ part, the attachment has been as constant.” “Indeed, sir!” said Hankes, sorely puzzled what to make of this declaration. “I know,” said Dunn, returning rapidly to the theme, “that nothing will seem less credible to the world at large than a man of _my_ stamp marrying for love! The habit is to represent us as a sort of human monster, a creature of wily, money-getting faculties, shrewd, over-reaching, and successful. They won't give us feelings, Hankes. They won't let us understand the ties of affection and the charms of a home. Well,” said he, after a long pause, “there probably never lived a man more mistaken, more misconceived by the world than myself.” Hankes heaved a heavy sigh; it was, he felt, the safest thing he could do, for he did not dare to trust himself with a single word. The sigh, however, was a most profound one, and, plainly as words, declared the compassionate contempt he entertained for a world so short-sighted and so meanly minded. “After all,” resumed Dunn, “it is the penalty every man must pay for eminence. The poor little nibblers at the rind of fortune satisfy their unsuccess when they say, 'Look at him with all his money!'” Another and deeper sigh here broke from Hankes, who was really losing all clew to the speaker's reflections. “I'm certain, Hankes, you have heard observations of this kind five hundred times.” “Ay, have I, sir,” answered he, in hurried confusion,--“five thousand!” “Well, and what was your reply, sir? How did you meet such remarks?” said Dunn, sternly.