would become dyspeptic, be surrounded by physicians, consigned to all the Badens in Germany, and think much more of a renovating draught than a beautiful young wife.
"Marrying will make a new man of him; the mixture of care and comfort, of pride in his children and fear for his wife, will keep him out of the hands of the faculty—it will be her health that will sink, not his. But should she die?—how much better to yield her breath Marchioness of Wentworthdale, Viscountess Conisburgh, Baroness of Horton Roberts, &c. &c. &c, than as the wife of—pshaw! I have no patience to think of a fellow poorer than even Charles Penrhyn!
"But were she his wife, she would not die—she would be healthy and happy, like Louisa—how shocking!—a living disgrace is worse than a dead one, for the dead are soon forgotten and constantly forgiven."
At the moment when Lady Anne's soliloquy had reached this consolatory conclusion, the Marquess very affectionately wished her good-night, adding, "that, on the morrow, he should call to inquire after the fair Georgiana." Lady Anne was perfectly aware that he left her at the moment when his services might have been useful, but she thought his conduct perfectly natural, for the house was hot and the evening cold. Lord Meersbrook was kind and attentive, and, as they left the box, to her great relief, her whom she designated "the sailor" appeared and offered her his arm; for, angry as he had been, "she was the mother of that
