"And--doesn't she interest you--a little, Peter?".

"Not in the least," said I.

"And, pray, why not?"

"Because I care very little for either peaches or plums."

"Or black-browed goddesses, Peter?"

"Not if she is big and strapping, and possesses a temper."

"I suppose--to such a philosopher as you--a woman or a goddess, black-browed or not, can scarcely compare with, or hope to rival an old book, can she, sir?"

"Why, that depends, Charmian."

"On what?"

"On the book!" said I.

Charmian rested her round elbows upon the table, and, setting her chin in her hands, stared squarely at me.

"Peter," said she.

"Yes, Charmian?"

"If ever you did meet this lady--I think--"

"Well?"

"I know--"

"What?"

"That you would fall a very easy victim!"

"I think not," said I.

"You would be her slave in--a month--three weeks--or much less--"

"Preposterous!" I exclaimed.

"If she set herself to make you!"

"That would be very immodest!" said I; "besides, no woman can make a man love her."

"Do your books teach you that, Peter?" Here, finding I did not answer, she laughed and nodded her head at me. "You would be head over ears in love before you knew it!"

"I think not," said I, smiling.

"You are the kind of man who would grow sick with love, and never know what ailed him."

"Any man in such a condition would be a pitiful ass!" said I.

Charmian only laughed at me again, and went back to her scribbling.

"Then, if this lady married you," said she suddenly, "you would be a gentleman of good position and standing?"

"Yes, I suppose so--and probably miserable."

"And rich, Peter?"

"I should have more than enough."

"Instead of being a village blacksmith--"

"With just enough, and absurdly happy and content," I added, "which is far more desirable--at least I think so."

"Do you mean to say that you would rather--exist here, and make horseshoes all your life, than--live, respected, and rich."

"And married to--"

"And married to the Lady Sophia?"

"Infinitely!" said I.

"Then your cousin, so far as you are concerned, is free to woo and win her and your uncle's fortune?"

"And I wish him well of his bargain!" I nodded. "As for me, I shall probably continue to live here, and make horseshoes --wifeless and content."

"Is marriage so hateful to you?"

"In the abstract--no; for in my mind there exists a woman whom I think I could love--very greatly; but, in the actual--yes, because there is no woman in all the world that is like this woman of my mind."

"Is she so flawlessly perfect--this imaginary woman?"

"She is one whom I would respect for her intellect."

"Yes."

"Whom I would honor for her proud virtue."

"Yes, Peter."

"Whom I would worship for her broad charity, her gentleness, and spotless purity."

"Yes, Peter."

"And love with all my strength, for her warm, sweet womanhood--in a word, she is the epitome of all that is true and womanly!"