William Belton. Now Will had been very dull the whole evening, and very unlike the fiery, violent, unreasonable man whom Captain Aylmer remembered to have met at the station hotel of the Great Northern Railway. "I was as sure of it as possible," Clara said to her husband that night. "Sure of what, my dear?" "That she would have a red nose." "Who has got a red nose?" "Don't be stupid, Will. Who should have it but Lady Emily?" "Upon my word I didn't observe it." "You never observe anything, Will; do you? But don't you think she is very plain?" "Upon my word I don't know. She isn't as handsome as some people." "Don't be a fool, Will. How old do you suppose her to be?" "How old? Let me see. Thirty, perhaps." "If she's not over forty, I'll consent to change noses with her." "No;--we won't do that; not if I know it." "I cannot conceive why any man should marry such a woman as that. Not but what she's a very good woman, I dare say; only what can a man get by it? To be sure there's the title, if that's worth anything." But Will Belton was never good for much conversation at this hour, and was too fast asleep to make any rejoinder to the last remark.