“Well, dear, I should be sorry to see my Augusta his wife, for whoever he marries will be a perfect slave to him. His fortune would be a nice thing if he did not live long; but even for that my Augusta shall not be sacrificed,” returned the other matron whose Augusta had vainly tried to captivate “P. F.,” and revenged herself by calling him “a wreck, my dear, a perfect wreck.” At another time Christie heard some girls discussing the eligibility of several gentlemen, and Mr. Fletcher was considered the best match among them. “You can do any thing you like with a husband a good deal older than yourself. He’s happy with his business, his club, and his dinner, and leaves you to do what you please; just keep him comfortable and he’ll pay your bills without much fuss,” said one young thing who had seen life at twenty. “I’d take him if I had the chance, just because everybody wants him. Don’t admire him a particle, but it will make a jolly stir whenever he does marry, and I wouldn’t mind having a hand in it,” said the second budding belle. “I’d take him for the diamonds alone. Mamma says they are splendid, and have been in the family for ages. He won’t let Mrs. S. wear them, for they always go to the eldest son’s wife. Hope he’ll choose a handsome woman who will show them off well,” said a third sweet girl, glancing at her own fine neck. “He won’t; he’ll take some poky old maid who will cuddle him when he is sick, and keep out of his way when he is well. See if he don’t.” “I saw him dawdling round with old Tudor, perhaps he means to take her: she’s a capital nurse, got ill herself taking care of her father, you know.” “Perhaps he’s after the governess; she’s rather nice looking, though she hasn’t a bit of style.” “Gracious, no! she’s a dowdy thing, always trailing round with a book and those horrid children. No danger of his marrying her.” And a derisive laugh seemed to settle that question beyond a doubt. “Oh, indeed!” said Christie, as the girls went trooping out of the bath-house, where this pleasing chatter had been carried on regardless of listeners. She called them “mercenary, worldly, unwomanly flirts,” and felt herself much their superior. Yet the memory of their gossip haunted her, and had its influence upon her decision, though she thought she came to it through her own good judgment and discretion. “If he really cares for me I will listen, and not refuse till I know him well enough to decide. I’m tired of being alone, and should enjoy ease and pleasure so much. He’s going abroad for the winter, and that would be charming. I’ll try not to be worldly-minded and marry without love, but it does look tempting to a poor soul like me.” So Christie made up her mind to accept, if this promotion was offered her; and while she waited, went through so many alternations of feeling, and was so harassed by doubts and fears that she sometimes found herself wishing it had never occurred to her.