married him with the intention of enjoying her life. She confesses as
much sometimes with perfect candour."

"I daresay she is very candid, and just as shallow," said Gilbert Fenton,
who was inclined to set his face against this entanglement of his
friend's.

"Well--yes, I suppose she is rather shallow. Those pretty pleasant little
women generally are, I think. Depth of feeling and force of mind are so
apt to go along with blue spectacles and a rugged aspect. A woman's
prettiness must stand for something. There is so much real pleasure in
the contemplation of a charming face, that a man had need rescind a
little in the way of mental qualifications. And I do not think Adela
Branston is without a heart."

"You praise her very warmly. Are you really in love with her, John?" his
friend asked seriously.

"No, Gilbert, upon my honour. I heartily wish I were. I wish I could give
her more by-and-by, when death brings about her release from Michael
Branston, than the kind of liking I feel for her. No, I am not in love
with her; but I think she likes me; and a man must be something worse
than a brute if he is not grateful for a pretty woman's regard."

They said no more about Mrs. Branston. Gilbert had a strong distaste for
the business; but he did not care to take upon himself the office of
mentor to a friend whose will he knew to be much stronger than his own,
and to whose domination he had been apt to submit in most things, as to
the influence of a superior mind. It disappointed him a little to find
that John Saltram was capable of making a mercenary marriage, capable