“No. I will only say that if you do not like your life, it is your own fault. How can a man of your age talk of being melancholy, or of the hollowness of existence? Are you consumptive? Are you subject to hereditary insanity? Are you deaf, like Aunt Bluebell? Are you poor, like—lots of people? Have you been crossed in love? Have you lost the world for a woman, or any particular woman for the sake of the world? Are you feeble-minded, a cripple, an outcast? Are you—repulsively ugly?” She laughed again. “Is there any reason in the world why you should not enjoy all you have got in life?” “No. There is no reason whatever, except that I am dreadfully unlucky, especially in small things.” “Then try big things, just for a change,” suggested Miss Lammas. “Try and get married, for instance, and see how it turns out.” “If it turned out badly it would be rather serious.” “Not half so serious as it is to abuse everything unreasonably. If abuse is your particular talent, abuse something that ought to be abused. Abuse the Conservatives—or the Liberals—it does not matter which, since they are always abusing each other. Make yourself felt by other people. You will like it, if they don’t. It will make a man of you. Fill your mouth with pebbles, and howl at the sea, if you cannot do anything else. It did Demosthenes no end of good, you know. You will have the satisfaction of imitating a great man.” “Really, Miss Lammas, I think the list of innocent exercises you propose—” “Very well—if you don’t care for that sort of thing, care for some other sort of thing. Care for something, or hate something. Don’t be idle. Life is short, and though art may be long, plenty of noise answers nearly as well.” “I do care for something—I mean, somebody,” I said. “A woman? Then marry her. Don’t hesitate.” “I do not know whether she would marry me,” I replied. “I have never asked her.” “Then ask her at once,” answered Miss Lammas. “I shall die happy if I feel I have persuaded a melancholy fellow creature to rouse himself to action. Ask her, by all means, and see what she says. If she does not accept you at once, she may take you the next time. Meanwhile, you will have entered for the race. If you lose, there are the ‘All-aged Trial Stakes,’ and the ‘Consolation Race.’” “And plenty of selling races into the bargain. Shall I take you at your word, Miss Lammas?” “I hope you will,” she answered. “Since you yourself advise me, I will. Miss Lammas, will you do me the honor to marry me?”