"You have changed," said Tremenhere in rather a low tone, feeling it necessary to say something; "and not for the better, I think. If people must marry, why, let them do it in youth--that is, not extreme youth, but not with too much disparity--a year or two on the man's side." "Only _that_!" exclaimed Burton sarcastically, half addressing Tremenhere, who looked him full in the face, but made no reply; the blood, however, painfully rose to his brow. The remark was not lost where he intended it to tell. "The misfortune is," said one of the guests, "that we men do not gain wisdom with age--our wise teeth are the first to decay and desert us. We forget how many years have gone over our heads; and at sixty expect some lovely girl of twenty to love us for ourselves alone." "A grave error," answered Tremenhere, laughing. He was resolved, if possible, to chase painful thought, and the cold, unfounded suspicions gathering round his heart. "For an old man, marrying a young girl, generally becomes like a hoop in a child's hands; which it trundles before it whither it will, giving it hard knocks at every step!" "Bravo!" cried several. "It is not always thus," said their host, laughing. "Some old fellows weary their young wives to death; these always remind me of a punishment I have read of somewhere, where a living person was chained to a corpse till death came--some old men are brutes." "I'd poison such a one!" exclaimed one man, laughing. "I know such a being now," responded Lord Randolph, "with his hair dyed a purple black, idem whiskers, and one of our celebrated dentists is guilty of affording him the means of mastication, and life." "If I were his wife," said Tremenhere, "I'd take away his teeth, and starve him! 'Twould be a decay of nature, nothing to affect the conscience!" Some more jests were passed on this subject; and when silence was a little restored, Burton asked, "But Vellumy has not yet accounted for the fair spirit he spoke of--where is she?" "In the picture gallery," answered Lord Randolph, hastily. "Tremenhere, you are such a deucedly lazy fellow, that, till you send me your 'Aurora,' I have gladdened my eyes with a Venus; you must give me your opinion of her by candle-light. Vellumy loses himself in ecstasy before her." "By whom is she?" asked Tremenhere. "Gad I forget! some young aspirant. I have a fancy of my own, to bring forward unknown genius and beauty." Here again he looked at Vellumy, and again a cloud passed over Tremenhere's heart. Much more was said on various subjects. The cloth was removed--the wine circulated freely. Vellumy whispered Tremenhere, "Come along; leave those fellows drinking; let's go and have a quiet hit at billiards." Both rose. "Where are you off to?" exclaimed Lord Randolph; "I'll have no shirking, Vel. You and Tremenhere remain--we'll all go shortly." "You can join us," answered Vellumy; "we're going to see the Venus first," and he moved to the door.