Probably there was no male acquaintance of the parties， however hardened， to whom these fine flights would have seemed more utterly preposterous than to the immediate friend and prospective bridesmaid， Miss Blanche Ingleside. To that young lady， trained sedulously by a devoted mother， life was really a serious thing. It meant the full rigor of the marriage market， tempered only by dancing and new dresses. There was a stern sense of duty beneath all her robing and disrobing； she conscientiously did what was expected of her， and took her little amusements meanwhile. It was supposed that most of the purchasers in the market preferred slang and bare shoulders， and so she favored them with plenty of both. It was merely the law of supply and demand. Had John Lambert once hinted that he would accept her in decent black， she would have gone to the next ball as a Sister of Charity； but where was the need of it， when she and her mother both knew that， had she appeared as the Veiled Prophet of Khorassan， she would not have won him？ So her only resource was a cheerful acquiescence in Emilia's luck， and a judicious propitiation of the accepted favorite.
"I wouldn't mind playing Virtue Rewarded myself， young woman，" said Blanche， "at such a scale of prices. I would do it even to so slow an audience as old Lambert. But you see， it isn't my line. Don't forget your humble friends when you come into your property， that's all." Then the tender coterie of innocents entered on some preliminary consideration of wedding-dresses.
When Emilia came home， she dismissed the whole matter lightly as a settled thing， evaded all talk with Aunt Jane， and coolly said to Kate that she had no objection to Mr. Lambert， and might as well marry him as anybody else.
"I am not like you and Hal， you know，" said she. "I have no fancy for love in a cottage. I never look well in anything that is not costly. I have not a taste that does not imply a fortune. What is the use of love？ One marries for love， and is unhappy ever after. One marries for money， and perhaps gets love after all. I dare say Mr. Lambert loves me， though I do not see why he should."
"I fear he does，" said Kate， almost severely.
"Fear？" said Emilia.
"Yes，" said Kate. "It is an unequal bargain， where one side does all the loving."
"Don't be troubled，" said Emilia. "I dare say he will not love me long. Nobody ever did！" And her eyes filled with tears which she dashed away angrily， as she ran up to her room.
It was harder yet for her to talk with Hope， but she did it， and that in a very serious mood. She had never been so open with her sister.
"Aunt Jane once told me，" she said， "that my only safety was in marrying a good man. Now I am engaged to one."
"Do you love him， Emilia？" asked Hope， gravely.
"Not much，" said Emilia， honestly. "But perhaps I shall， by and by."
"Emilia，" cried Hope， "there is no such thing as happiness in a marriage without love."
"Mine is not without love，" the girl answered. "He loves me.
It frightens me to see how much he loves me. I can have the devotion of a lifetime， if I will. Perhaps it is hard to receive it in such a way， but I can have it. Do you blame me very much？"
Hope hesitated. "I cannot blame you so much， my child，" she said， "as if I thought it were money for which you cared. It seems to me that there must be something beside that， and yet--"
"O Hope， how I thank you，" interrupted Emilia. "It is not money. You know I do not care about money， except just to buy my clothes and things. At least， I do not care about so much as he has，--more than a million dollars， only think！ Perhaps they said two million. Is it wrong for me to marry him， just because he has that？"
"Not if you love him."
"I do not exactly love him， but O Hope， I cannot tell you about it. I am not so frivolous as you think. I want to do my duty.
I want to make you happy too： you have been so sweet to me."
"Did you think it would make me happy to have you married？" asked Hope， surprised， and kissing again and again the young， sad face. And the two girls went upstairs together， brought for the moment into more sisterly nearness by the very thing that had seemed likely to set them forever apart.
第一章XIII. DREAMING DREAMS. SO short was the period between Emilia's betrothal and her marriage， that Aunt Jane's sufferings over trousseau and visits did not last long. Mr. Lambert's society was the worst thing to bear.
"He makes such long calls！" she said， despairingly. "He should bring an almanac with him to know when the days go by."
"But Harry and Philip are here all the time，" said Kate， the accustomed soother.
"Harry is quiet， and Philip keeps out of the way lately，" she answered. "But I always thought lovers the most inconvenient thing about a house. They are more troublesome than the mice， and all those people who live in the wainscot； for though the lovers make less noise， yet you have to see them."
"A necessary evil， dear，" said Kate， with much philosophy.
"I am not sure，" said the complainant. "They might be excluded in the deed of a house， or by the terms of the lease. The next house I take， I shall say to the owner， 'Have you a good well of water on the premises？ Are you troubled with rats or lovers？' That will settle it."
It was true， what Aunt Jane said about Malbone. He had changed his habits a good deal. While the girls were desperately busy about the dresses， he beguiled Harry to the club， and sat on the piazza， talking sentiment and sarca**， regardless of hearers.
"When we are young，" he would say， "we are all idealists in love. Every imaginative boy has such a passion， while his intellect is crude and his senses indifferent. It is the height of bliss. All other pleasures are not worth its pains.
With older men this ecstasy of the imagination is rare； it is the senses that clutch or reason which holds."
"Is that an improvement？" asked some juvenile listener.
"No！" said Philip， strongly. "Reason is cold and sensuality hateful； a man of any feeling must feed his imagination； there must be a woman of whom he can dream."
