_Isabel (following her own thoughts)_. I’ve never seen him since; it must be ten years ago. I’m certainly thirty-two, and I was just twenty-two then. It’s curious to talk of it. I had put it away so carefully. How it smells of camphor! And what an old-fashioned cut it has! _(Rising.)_ Where’s the list, Lucius? You wanted to know if there were to be people at dinner tonight-- _Warland_. Here it is--but never mind. Isabel--(_silence_) Isabel-- _Isabel_. Well? _Warland_. It’s odd he never married. _Isabel_. The comparison is to my disadvantage. But then I met you. _Warland_. Don’t be so confoundedly sarcastic. I wonder how he’ll feel about seeing you. Oh, I don’t mean any sentimental rot, of course... but you’re an uncommonly agreeable woman. I daresay he’ll be pleased to see you again; you’re fifty times more attractive than when I married you. _Isabel_. I wish your other investments had appreciated at the same rate. Unfortunately my charms won’t pay the butcher. _Warland_. Damn the butcher! _Isabel_. I happened to mention him because he’s just written again; but I might as well have said the baker or the candlestick-maker. The candlestick-maker--I wonder what he is, by the way? He must have more faith in human nature than the others, for I haven’t heard from him yet. I wonder if there is a Creditor’s Polite Letter-writer which they all consult; their style is so exactly alike. I advise you to pass through New York incognito on your way to Washington; their attentions might be oppressive. _Warland_. Confoundedly oppressive. What a dog’s life it is! My poor Isabel-- _Isabel_. Don’t pity me. I didn’t marry you for a home. _Warland (after a pause_). What _did_ you marry me for, if you cared for Oberville? _(Another pause_.) Eh? _Isabel_, Don’t make me regret my confidence. _Warland_. I beg your pardon. _Isabel_. Oh, it was only a subterfuge to conceal the fact that I have no distinct recollection of my reasons. The fact is, a girl’s motives in marrying are like a passport--apt to get mislaid. One is so seldom asked for either. But mine certainly couldn’t have been mercenary: I never heard a mother praise you to her daughters. _Warland_. No, I never was much of a match. _Isabel_. You impugn my judgment. _Warland_. If I only had a head for business, now, I might have done something by this time. But I’d sooner break stones in the road. _Isabel_. It must be very hard to get an opening in that profession. So many of my friends have aspired to it, and yet I never knew any one who actually did it. _Warland_. If I could only get the secretaryship. How that kind of life would suit you! It’s as much for you that I want it--