"In fact, I am not sure I have a real friend in the world, for, gild a fool or a monkey, and mark what a troop of flatterers fawn around and follow admiringly at his heels! And as for choosing a wife, why, were I toothless, one-eyed, or deaf as a post, the magic of gold would transform me into an Adonis!" Now stopping before a full-length mirror, he appears to console himself for such suppositions, by very complacently regarding his truly elegant figure and classic countenance. A tap at the door, and an arch face, already shaded by the night-coif, peeps in. "What, not yet gone to bed, brother--why what are you studying, to be up so late?" "Studying human nature, Helen--a book with great pretensions to excellence, but--" "Hush, hush, Frank! not a word more," exclaimed Helen, placing her little hand over his mouth, "not a word more--you read with defective vision! I proclaim the book of human nature to be charming, every page teeming with interest, every line traced by the hand divine, a lesson for a lifetime. Ah! Frank, remove the film of distrust from your eyes, and read this book as it ought to be read, therein you will find truth, goodness, and beauty!" "Would I could think as you do, Helen. I tell you candidly, I am sick of the world as I find it, and would gladly give all my wealth and expectations to be sure there was one heart that truly loved me--loved me for myself alone." "A very pretty theory, indeed! Well, you must get married, Frank; I see no other way to cure you--then you will have a dear little book of your own to study--a choice edition of human nature, traced by the feather of Cupid." "Ah! the very thing I was thinking of; but tell me, Helen, where can I find that same beautiful work?" "Where you please, brother--there is no danger that you can sue in vain; there is sweet Anna De Kay, roguish little Laura C----, the pensive Sarah--" "O! don't mention them--pray don't name any more of these city belles!" "Well, Frank, human nature is most lovely in the simplicity of country life--you must seek some village maid to grace the name of Leland." "Helen," says Frank, taking her hand, and looking into the large blue eyes sparkling so mirthfully, "Helen, I tell you if I could find an amiable girl, brought up in all the beautiful simplicity of the country, no matter how unskillful in the world's ways--one who, ignorant of my wealth and standing, would unite her fate to mine for better or for worse--then, Helen, I could fall at her feet, and worship her as the star of my life and love." "Pray, remember, my sentimental brother, ere you squeeze my hand so devoutly, that I am not your artless country maid," exclaimed Helen, laughing; then, after a moment's pause, she cries, gayly, "ah! I have it, Frank; you must masquerade a little, that's all--win your bride under false colors, as a sailor would say."