laid his hand on his companion's shoulder. "My dear Gordon, it 's no
use; you are in love."

"Well, I don't want to be," said Wright.

"Heavens, what a horrible sentiment!"

"I want to marry with my eyes open. I want to know my wife. You don't
know people when you are in love with them. Your impressions are
colored."

"They are supposed to be, slightly. And you object to color?"

"Well, as I say, I want to know the woman I marry, as I should know any
one else. I want to see her as clearly."

"Depend upon it, you have too great an appetite for knowledge; you set
too high an esteem upon the dry light of science."

"Ah!" said Gordon promptly; "of course I want to be fond of her."

Bernard, in spite of his protest, began to laugh again.

"My dear Gordon, you are better than your theories. Your passionate
heart contradicts your frigid intellect. I repeat it--you are in love."

"Please don't repeat it again," said Wright.

Bernard took his arm, and they walked along.