'Aye, so we are, I dare say; at any rate, some things don't please us as we calculated. I remember when this bit of luck would have made me a devilish happy fellow--_twice_ as happy; but, you see, if a fellow hasn't his liberty, where's the good of money? I don't know how I got into it, but I can't get away now; and the lawyer fellows, and trustees, and all that sort of prudent people, get about one, and persuade, and exhort, and they bully you, by Jove! into what they call a marriage of convenience--I forget the French word--you know; and then, you see, your feelings may be very different, and all that; and where's the good of money, I say, if you can't enjoy it?' And Mr. Wylder looked poetically unhappy, and trundled over a little bit of fricandeau on his plate with his fork, desolately, as though earthly things had lost their relish. 'Yes; I think I know the feeling,' said Miss Lake, quietly. 'That ballad, you know, expresses it very prettily:--"Oh, thou hast been the cause of this anguish, my mother?"' It was not then as old a song as it is now. Wylder looked sharply at her, but she did not smile, and seemed to speak in good faith; and being somewhat thick in some matters, though a cunning fellow, he said-- 'Yes; that is the sort of thing, you know--of course, with a difference--a girl is supposed to speak there; but men suffer that way, too--though, of course, very likely it's more their own fault.' 'It is very sad,' said Miss Lake, who was busy with a _pate_. 'She has no life in her; she's a mere figurehead; she's awfully slow; I don't like black hair; I'm taken by conversation--and all that. There are some men that can only really love once in their lives, and never forget their first love, I assure you.' Wylder murmured all this, and looked as plaintive as he could without exciting the attention of the people over-the-way. Mark Wylder had, as you perceive, rather vague notions of decency, and not much experience of ladies; and thought he was making just the interesting impression he meditated. He was a good deal surprised, then, when Miss Lake said, and with quite a cheerful countenance, and very quickly, but so that her words stung his ear like the prick of a bodkin. 'Your way of speaking of my cousin, Sir, is in the highest degree discreditable to you and offensive to me, and should you venture to repeat it, I will certainly mention it to Lady Chelford.' And so she turned to old Major Jackson at her right, who had been expounding a point of the battle of Vittoria to Lord Chelford; and she led him again into action, and acquired during the next ten minutes a great deal of curious lore about Spanish muleteers and French prisoners, together with some particulars about the nature of picket duty, and 'that scoundrel, Castanos.' CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH WE GO TO THE DRAWING-ROOM AND THE PARTY BREAKS UP.