he will drive Jack, and no other horse, and the brute has thrown
him twice already.

"She spoke with a kind of lisp, not disagreeable, but childish.
I soon saw also that there was more than girlish--a somewhat
infantine expression in her by no means small features; this lisp
and expression were, I have no doubt, a charm in Edward's eyes,
and would be so to those: of most men, but they were not to
mine. I sought her eye, desirous to read there the intelligence
which I could not discern in her face or hear in her
conversation; it was merry, rather small; by turns I saw
vivacity, vanity, coquetry, look out through its irid, but I
watched in vain for a glimpse of soul. I am no Oriental; white
necks, carmine lips and cheeks, clusters of bright curls, do not
suffice for me without that Promethean spark which will live
after the roses and lilies are faded, the burnished hair grown
grey. In sunshine, in prosperity, the flowers are very well; but
how many wet days are there in life--November seasons of
disaster, when a man's hearth and home would be cold indeed,
without the clear, cheering gleam of intellect.

"Having perused the fair page of Mrs. Crimsworth's face, a deep,
involuntary sigh announced my disappointment; she took it as a
homage to her beauty, and Edward, who was evidently proud of his
rich and handsome young wife, threw on me a glance--half
ridicule, half ire.

"I turned from them both, and gazing wearily round the room, I
saw two pictures set in the oak panelling--one on each side the
mantel-piece. Ceasing to take part in the bantering conversation