Stories by English Authors: England Part 24

"I don't know. Yes, rather indifferent. I don't think he thinks about it, you know. But she--she's pretty. You needn't put that down."

"I was not about to do so," observed the philosopher.

"She thinks life with him would be just heaven; and--and she thinks she would make him awfully happy. She would--would be so proud of him, you see."

"I see. Yes?"

"And--I don't know how to put it, quite--she thinks that if he ever thought about it at all he might care for her; because he doesn't care for anybody else, and she's pretty--"

"You said that before."

"Oh dear, I dare say I did. And most men care for somebody, don't they? Some girl, I mean."

"Most men, no doubt," conceded the philosopher.

"Well then, what ought she to do? It's not a real thing, you know, Mr. Jerningham. It's in --in a novel I was reading." She said this hastily, and blushed as she spoke.

"Dear me! And it's quite an interesting case! Yes, I see. The question is, Will she act most wisely in accepting the offer of the man who loves her exceedingly, but for whom she entertains only a moderate affection--"

"Yes; just a liking. He's just a friend."

"Exactly. Or in marrying the other whom she loves ex--"

"That's not it. How can she marry him? He hasn't--he hasn't asked her, you see."

"True; I forgot. Let us a.s.sume, though, for the moment, that he has asked her. She would then have to consider which marriage would probably be productive of the greater sum total of--"

"Oh, but you needn't consider that."

"But it seems the best logical order. We can afterward make allowance for the element of uncertainty caused by--"

"Oh no; I don't want it like that. I know perfectly well which she'd do if he--the other man you know--asked her."

"You apprehend that--"

"Never mind what I 'apprehend.' Take it as I told you."

"Very good. A has asked her hand, B has not."

"Yes."

"May I take it that, but for the disturbing influence of B, A would be a satisfactory--er--candidate?"

"Ye--es; I think so."

"She therefore enjoys a certainty of considerable happiness if she marries A?"

"Ye--es; not perfect, because of--B, you know."

"Quite so, quite so; but still a fair amount of happiness. Is it not so?"

"I don't--well, perhaps."

"On the other hand, if B did ask her, we are to postulate a higher degree of happiness for her?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Jerningham--much higher."

"For both of them?"

"For her. Never mind him."

"Very well. That again simplifies the problem. But his asking her is a contingency only?"

"Yes, that's all."

The philosopher spread out his hands.

"My dear young lady," he said, "it becomes a question of degree.

How probable or improbable is it?"

"I don't know; not very probable--unless--"

"Well?"

"Unless he did happen to notice, you know."

"Ah, yes; we supposed that, if he thought of it, he would probably take the desired step--at least, that he might be led to do so.

Could she not--er--indicate her preference?"

"She might try--no, she couldn't do much. You see, he--he doesn't think about such things."

"I understand precisely. And it seems to me, Miss May, that in that very fact we find our solution."

"Do we?" she asked.

"I think so. He has evidently no natural inclination toward her--perhaps not toward marriage at all. Any feeling aroused in him would be necessarily shallow and, in a measure, artificial, and in all likelihood purely temporary. Moreover, if she took steps to arouse his attention one of two things would be likely to happen.

Are you following me?"

"Yes, Mr. Jerningham."

"Either he would be repelled by her overtures, --which you must admit is not improbable,--and then the position would be unpleasant, and even degrading, for her; or, on the other hand, he might, through a misplaced feeling of gallantry--"

"Through what?"

"Through a mistaken idea of politeness, or a mistaken view of what was kind, allow himself to be drawn into a connection for which he had no genuine liking. You agree with me that one or other of these things would be likely?"

"Yes, I suppose they would, unless he did come to care for her."

"Ah, you return to that hypothesis. I think it's an extremely fanciful one. No, she need not marry A; but she must let B alone."