"No man can eat more than three square meals a day and be happy; no man can lie upon more than one bed at a time;--so, what right have I, or any other man for the matter of that, to steal some other fellow's food and bedding?" "But some day you may wish to marry," she put in. "Some day,--yes! maybe. And the lady I marry must also love the open air, away from the city turmoil; she must hanker after the glories of a place such as this; otherwise, we should not agree for long. "And,--Mary,--" I continued, "the man you would marry,--what would you demand of him?" "The man I would marry may be a Merchant Prince or a humble tiller of the soil. A few things only I would demand of him, and these are:--that he love me with all his great loving heart; that he be honourable in all things and that his right arm be strong to protect his own and ever ready to assist his weaker brother. "Marriages may be made in heaven, George, but they have to be lived on earth, and the one essential thing in every marriage is love." She sat for a while in thought, then she threw out her hands as if to ward off a danger. "Of what use me talking in this way," she cried. "Marriage, for me, with my foolish ideas, is impossible. I am destined to remain as I am." My pulse quickened as she spoke. "And why?" I asked;--for this evening of evenings was one for open hearts and tender feelings. "It was arranged for me that by this time I should be the wife of a man; and,--God knows,--though I did not love him, I meant to be a true and dutiful wife to him, even when I knew my eternal soul would be bruised in the effort. "This man was taller than you are, George. Sometimes, in your devil-may-care moods, I seem to see him again in you. I am glad to say, though, the similarity ends there. "For all his protestations of love for me, for all his boasted ideals, his anxiety for the preservation of his honour as a gentleman, he proved himself not even faithful in that which every woman has a right to demand of the man she is about to marry, as he demands it of her. "I would not marry him then. I could not. I would sooner have died. "That was my reward for trying to do my duty." Her voice broke. "Sometimes, I wonder if any man is really true and honourable." She covered her face with her hands; she, who had always been so self-possessed. "The shame of it! The shame of it!" she sobbed. In my heart, I cursed the dishonour of men. Would the dreadful procession of it never cease? Deceit and dishonour! Dishonour and deceit! Here, there, everywhere,--and always the woman suffering while the man goes free! I moved over beside her in the stern of the boat. I laid my hand upon her shoulder. In my rough, untutored way, without breaking into the agony of her thoughts, I tried to comfort her with the knowledge of my sympathetic presence.