“Are you quite sure what your opinion is? are you certain that when you send him away, you shall not regret what you have done? Do you really wish to give him up?” “I would give up twenty such men for Maurice.” “Consider, Dora, if you were to marry my brother, you would become the wife of a poor man, one who must immediately curtail all the luxuries and indulgence which have become habit to you. Are you seriously bent on this――prepared for it?” “I should like poverty――riches and luxury disgust me; I am weary of indulgence.” “But think what it would be to lose your place in society, which you must do when you ceased to be Miss Barham, of Drewhurst Abbey, to step down into retirement and neglect; to lay aside your elegant style of toilette, to give up your horses, your carriages, your journeys here and there at pleasure; your multitude of attendants, your luxurious rooms. To have to wait on yourself, order your own dinners, put up with indifferent and awkward servants, consider before you spent even five shillings, calculate which joint of meat is most economical, and how to make it last longest and go furthest; perhaps even to repair your own wardrobe, certainly to walk about on foot; and to live in small rooms, with the certainty of not being able to travel for change or diversion. Could you patiently put up with all this, and smile away difficulties and _ennui_ in such circumstances?” “I suppose I could as well as another woman, unless you mean to infer that your brother and his wife must be unhappy; I do not see that I should be more so than any other.” “You might, because you would have so much to renounce; while all these things would be natural, and therefore easy, to one brought up as I have been. You say you would like poverty, Dora; try. Allow yourself the gratification of no whim, deny yourself every superfluity which arrests your fancy, rise early, live plainly, do some useful work; for instance, make a flannel petticoat for a poor woman, or a cotton frock for a baby, and try for a month, or a fortnight even, how you like such a life. It would be sad to make a mistake, and find it out too late.” “But it would be quite different, Hilary, to play at being poor myself, or to be really so with Maurice.” “I admit that; you could go back at any time to riches; the step would not be inevitable.” “And so it would be unreal, and therefore could do no good. The motive would be wanting.” “I do not see that; the motive would be to try whether you could manage without riches; to understand yourself, and form a right judgment of the value you set on wealth. If you could not do without indulgence to this modified extent, and for so short a time, you would have no right to engage in such a situation for life.” “Besides,” said Dora, “I do not believe it can be necessary; for though Maurice is not rich, I should have my own fortune, which will, probably, be large. Papa told me he would give me handsome settlements if I married Mr. Ufford.”