“Oh, you’re old enough to take a sensible view of the, matter,” answered Miss Ley, somewhat brutally. “Bertha is merely the female attracted to the male, and that is the only decent foundation of marriage--the other way seems to me merely horrid. And what does it matter if the man is not of the same station, the instinct has nothing to do with the walk in life; if I’d ever been in love I shouldn’t have cared if it was a pot-boy, I’d have married him--if he asked me.” “Well, upon my word!” said the doctor. But Miss Ley was roused now, and interrupted him: “The particular function of a woman is to propagate her species; and if she’s wise she’ll choose a strong and healthy man to be the father of her children. I have no patience with those women who marry a man because he’s got brains. What is the good of a husband who can make abstruse mathematical calculations? A woman wants a man with strong arms and the digestion of an ox.” “Miss Ley,” broke in Miss Glover, “I’m not clever enough to argue with you, but I know you’re wrong. I don’t think I am right to listen to you; I’m sure Charles wouldn’t like it.” “My dear, you’ve been brought up like the majority of English girls--that is, like a fool.” Poor Miss Glover blushed. “At all events I’ve been brought up to regard marriage as a holy institution. We’re here upon earth to mortify the flesh, not to indulge it. I hope I shall never be tempted to think of such matters in the way you’ve suggested. If ever I marry I know that nothing will be further from me than carnal thoughts. I look upon marriage as a spiritual union in which it is my duty to love, honour, and obey my husband, to assist and sustain him, to live with him such a life that when the end comes we may be prepared for it.” “Fiddlesticks!” said Miss Ley. “I should have thought you of all people,” said Dr. Ramsay, “would object to Bertha marrying beneath her.” “They can’t be happy,” said Miss Glover. “Why not? I used to know in Italy Lady Justitia Shawe, who married her footman. She made him take her name, and they drank like fishes. They lived for forty years in complete felicity, and when he drank himself to death poor Lady Justitia was so grieved that her next attack of _delirium tremens_ carried her off. It was most pathetic.” “I can’t think you look forward with pleasure to such a fate for your only niece, Miss Ley,” said Miss Glover, who took everything seriously. “I have another niece, you know,” answered Miss Ley, “My sister, Mrs. Vaudrey, has three children.” But the doctor broke in: “Well, I don’t think you need trouble yourselves about the matter, for I have authority to announce to you that the marriage of Bertha and young Craddock is broken off.” “What!” cried Miss Ley. “I don’t believe it.” “You don’t say so,” ejaculated Miss Glover at the same moment. “Oh, I _am_ relieved.” Dr. Ramsay rubbed his hands, beaming with delight. “I knew I should stop it,” he said. “What do you think now, Miss Ley?”