Wright looked at him an instant in silence.
“Because I thought you were a good fellow, as well as a clever one.”
“A good fellow!” repeated Longueville. “I don’t understand your confounded scientific nomenclature. But excuse me; I won’t laugh. I am not a clever fellow; but I am a good one.” He paused a moment, and then laid his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “My dear Gordon, it ‘s no use; you are in love.”
“I want to marry with my eyes open. I want to know my wife. You don’t know people when you are in love with them. Your impressions are colored.”
“They are supposed to be, slightly. And you object to color?”
“Well, as I say, I want to know the woman I marry, as I should know any one else. I want to see her as clearly.”
“Depend upon it, you have too great an appetite for knowledge; you set too high an esteem upon the dry light of science.”
“Ah!” said Gordon promptly; “of course I want to be fond of her.”
Bernard, in spite of his protest, began to laugh again.
“My dear Gordon, you are better than your theories. Your passionate heart contradicts your frigid intellect. I repeat it--you are in love.”
“Please don’t repeat it again,” said Wright.
Bernard took his arm, and they walked along.
“What shall I call it, then? You are engaged in making studies for matrimony.”
“I don’t in the least object to your calling it that. My studies are of extreme interest.”
“And one of those young ladies is the fair volume that contains the precious lesson,” said Longueville. “Or perhaps your text-book is in two volumes?”
“No; there is one of them I am not studying at all. I never could do two things at once.”
“That proves you are in love. One can’t be in love with two women at once, but one may perfectly have two of them--or as many as you please--up for a competitive examination. However, as I asked you before, which of these young ladies is it that you have selected?”
Gordon Wright stopped abruptly, eying his friend.
“Ah, that ‘s not a fair question,” Bernard urged. “It would be invidious for me to name one rather than the other, and if I were to mention the wrong one, I should feel as if I had been guilty of a rudeness towards the other. Don’t you see?”
Gordon saw, perhaps, but he held to his idea of making his companion commit himself.