a man you don't love, or give up one whom you love."

"Well, Bess," said Dorothy defensively, a bit stricken of these truths,
"really, I want your opinions on marriage."

"Oh, that is it! Then snap your fingers in the teeth of command, and
marry no man whom you do not love!"

"But the man you love might not want you!" sighed Dorothy.

"The man you love will always want you," declared Bess with firmness.

"How sweet you are!"

"And as for parents making matches for their daughters," continued Bess,
unmoved of the tribute, and speaking as one who for long had made a
study of the world's domestic affairs, "it is sure to lead to trouble
and divorce."

"Is it?" asked Dorothy, appalled.

"It is!" returned Bess with a sepulchral air, as though pronouncing
doom. Then, mocking Dorothy's serious face with a little tumult of
laughter, she went on: "There; it's all decided now the way you wished.
You are to refuse Count Storri and marry Mr. Storms without bestowing
either care or thought on what Mamma Harley or Papa Harley or Uncle Pat
may say or do about it."

"Really, Bess, how much better you have made me feel. After all, there's
nobody like a wise, dear, true friend!"