Helen did not answer. She was still thinking of old times. I suppose if
one lives to be a hundred: there are certain passages of one's early life
whereof the recollection will always carry us back to youth again, and
that Helen was thinking of one of these.

"Look at my own brother, my dear creature," the Major continued
gallantly: "he himself, you know, had a little disappointment when he
started in the--the medical profession--an eligible opportunity presented
itself. Miss Balls, I remember the name, was daughter of an apoth--a
practitioner in very large practice; my brother had very nearly succeeded
in his suit.--But difficulties arose: disappointments supervened, and--
and I am sure he had no reason to regret the disappointment, which gave
him this hand," said the Major, and he once more politely pressed Helen's
fingers.

"Those marriages between people of such different rank and age," said
Helen, "are sad things. I have known them produce a great deal of
unhappiness.--Laura's father, my cousin, who--who was brought up with
me"--she added, in a low voice, "was an instance of that."

"Most injudicious," cut in the Major. "I don't know anything more painful
than for a man to marry his superior in age or his inferior in station.
Fancy marrying a woman of low rank of life, and having your house filled
with her confounded tag-rag-and-bobtail of relations! Fancy your wife
attached to a mother who dropped her h's, or called Maria Marire! How are
you to introduce her into society? My dear Mrs. Pendennis, I will name no
names, but in the very best circles of London society I have seen men
suffering the most excruciating agony, I have known them to be cut, to be
lost utterly, from the vulgarity of their wives' connections. What did
Lady Snapperton do last year at her dejeune dansant after the Bohemian