he could give. He had a most romantic and old-fashioned ideal
of women as a class, and from the age of fourteen had been a
devotee of hundreds of them as individuals; and though in that
time his ideal had received several severe shocks, he still
believed that the "not impossible she" existed somewhere, and
his conscientious efforts to find out whether every women he
met might not be that one had led him not unnaturally into
many difficulties.

"The trouble with me is," he said, "that I care too much to
make Platonic friendship possible, and don't care enough to
marry any particular woman--that is, of course, supposing that
any particular one would be so little particular as to be
willing to marry me. How embarrassing it would be, now," he
argued, "if, when you were turning away from the chancel after
the ceremony, you should look at one of the bridesmaids and
see the woman whom you really should have married! How
distressing that would be! You couldn't very well stop and
say: `I am very sorry, my dear, but it seems I have made a
mistake. That young woman on the right has a most interesting
and beautiful face. I am very much afraid that she is the
one.' It would be too late then; while now, in my free state,
I can continue my, search without any sense of
responsibility."

"Why"--he would exclaim--"I have walked miles to get a glimpse
of a beautiful woman in a suburban window, and time and time
again when I have seen a face in a passing brougham I have
pursued it in a hansom, and learned where the owner of the
face lived, and spent weeks in finding some one to present me,