'P.S.--I stay at the Brandon Arms in the town, until after the marriage;
and then you can have a room at the Hall, and capital shooting when we
return, which will be in a fortnight after.'


I can't say that Wylder was an old _friend_. But he was certainly one of
the oldest and most intimate acquaintances I had. We had been for nearly
three years at school together; and when his ship came to England, met
frequently; and twice, when he was on leave, we had been for months
together under the same roof; and had for some years kept up a regular
correspondence, which first grew desultory, and finally, as manhood
supervened, died out. The plain truth is, I did not _very_ much like him.

Then there was that beautiful apathetic Dorcas Brandon. Where is the
laggard so dull as to experience no pleasing flutter at his heart in
anticipation of meeting a perfect beauty in a country house. I was
romantic, like every other youngish fellow who is not a premature
curmudgeon; and there was something indefinitely pleasant in the
consciousness that, although a betrothed bride, the young lady still was
fancy free: not a bit in love. It was but a marriage of convenience, with
mitigations. And so there hovered in my curiosity some little flicker of
egotistic romance, which helped to rouse my spirits, and spur me on to
action.




CHAPTER II.

IN WHICH I ENTER THE DRAWING-ROOM.