don't intend to be; and it is nothing new for me to know that the
world is not particularly truthful."

"But why not marry? You had better change your mind--indeed you had: I
advise you for your good."

"You say I must not select a poor man, and the rich require too much
devotion from the ladies. You gentlemen let us take all the trouble to
please: you present yourselves, and expect us to fall at your feet._I_
am waiting for a chevalier who will go the world over to win me--who
will consider it an honor if I finally accept him, instead of
fancying, that I am honored by his choice."

"I used to have ideas of that kind, but found them false. It _is_ an
honor to receive a proposal, you know. Every one thinks so, else they
would not tell of it and brag as they do. By being so unlike the rest
of the world you will end badly--indeed you will, Miss Blanche."

"Look for a moment at the case as I put it. A man asks me to marry
him: he likes me--thinks I shall make him a good wife. He woos me to
please himself, not to please me, and you think I should be grateful
because his vanity prompts him to believe that I am highly honored.
But this is only one of the many fallacies which people adopt without
question. It is good for a man to be refused several times: it takes
some little conceit out of him, and makes him more humble and nice for
the poor woman who is ultimately to be his wife. I am convinced that
there is no gentleman who makes his first proposal that has a doubt of
his being accepted. Now, is there?" she asked, appealing to me.

"Well, you are about right. Women are not so particular about making a