In Jane Austen’s day there certainly was an openness in the arrangements about marriage that jars on our more reticent minds. Of course it is undeniable that at that time a girl’s only vocation, unless she happened to be a genius, was marriage, but the way in which suitability as to means and position were frequently considered as of all importance, and love merely as a secondary consideration, is slightly perturbing. Jane Austen’s high ideal of marriage must have been rarer then than at the present time. Perhaps the best example of the shameless discussion of the _mariage de convenance_ in the novels is the interview between Elinor Dashwood and her brother, when Colonel Brandon has shown some slight attention to her. Her brother begins by asking— “‘Who is Colonel Brandon? Is he a man of fortune?’ “‘Yes, he has very good property in Dorsetshire.’ “‘I am glad of it. He seems a most gentlemanlike man; and I think, Elinor, I may congratulate you on the prospect of a very respectable establishment in life.’ “‘Me, brother! what do you mean?’ “‘He likes you. I observed him narrowly, and am convinced of it. What is the amount of his fortune?’ “‘I believe about two thousand a year.’ “‘Two thousand a year!’ Then working himself up to a pitch of enthusiastic generosity, he added, ‘Elinor, I wish with all my heart it were twice as much for your sake.’ “‘Indeed, I believe you,’ replied Elinor, ‘but I am very sure that Colonel Brandon has not the smallest wish of marrying me.’ “‘You are mistaken, Elinor; you are very much mistaken. A very little trouble on your side secures him. Perhaps just at present he may be undecided; the smallness of your fortune may make him hang back; his friends may all advise him against it. But some of those little attentions and encouragements which ladies can so easily give will fix him in spite of himself. And there can be no reason why you should not try for him. It is not to be supposed that any prior attachment on your side—in short you know, as to an attachment of that kind it is quite out of the question, the objections are insurmountable—Colonel Brandon must be the man; and no civility shall be wanting on my part to make him pleased with you and your family. It is a match that must give universal satisfaction.’” The “prior attachment” was that to his own brother-in-law, Edward Ferrars, for whom his wife hoped to get a better match, and as a matter of fact the man in question, Colonel Brandon, was not in love with Elinor, but with her impulsive sister, Marianne, who was wasting away under the slights of Willoughby. Of her, her brother kindly remarks—