“Yes, but what do you think of his wisdom in refusing to find out what sort of a woman he was going to marry? Was he a fool or was he a very noble man?” “Why, I thought I said at the first that he was a nobleman, an Englishman.” “Miss Katherine, you are dodging the question. I asked your opinion of that man’s wisdom. Was he wise, or was he a fool?” “What do you think about it? Do you think he was a fool, or a wise man?” “Well, I asked you for your opinion first. However, I have very little hesitation in saying, that a man who marries a woman of whom he knows nothing, is a fool.” “Oh, but he was well acquainted with this woman. It was only her past that he knew nothing about.” “Well, I think you must admit that a woman’s past and a man’s past are very important parts of their lives. Don’t you agree with me?” “I agree with you so seldom that I should hesitate to say I did on this occasion. But I have told the story very badly. You will have to read it for yourself to thoroughly appreciate the different situations, and then we can discuss the matter intelligently.” “You evidently think the man was very noble in refusing to hear anything about the past of the lady he was interested in.” “I confess I do. He was noble, at least, in refusing to let a third party tell him. If he wished any information he should have asked the lady himself.” “Yes, but supposing she refused to answer him?” “Then, I think he should either have declined to have anything more to do with her, or, if he kept up his acquaintance, he should have taken her just as she was, without any reference to her past.” “I suppose you are right. Still, it is a very serious thing for two people to marry without knowing something of each other’s lives.” “I am tired of walking,” said Miss Earle, “I am now going to seek comfort in the luxuriousness, as you call it, of my steamer chair.” “And may I go with you?” asked the young man. “If you also are tired of walking.” “You know,” he said, “you promised the whole afternoon. You took the forenoon with _The Siege_, and now I don’t wish to be cheated out of my half of the day.” “Very well, I am rather interested in another story, and if you will take _The Siege of London_, and read it, you’ll find how much better the book is than my telling of the story.” George Morris had, of course, to content himself with this proposition, and they walked together to the steamer chairs, over which the gaily coloured rugs were spread. “Shall I get your book for you?” asked the young man, as he picked up the rugs. “Thank you,” answered Miss Earle, with a laugh, “you have already done so,” for, as he shook out the rugs, the two books, which were small handy volumes, fell out on the deck. “I see you won’t accept my hint about not leaving the books around. You will lose some precious volume one of these days.”