“In Mongolia age evidently ripens and mellows women as it does wine in other countries,” reflected Mr. Tutt.

“But you can buy some women for five pounds of rice,” added Tutt.  “Queer country, isn’t it?”

“Not at all!” declared his senior.  “Even in America every man pays and pays and pays for his wife—­through the nose!”

Tutt grinned appreciatively.

“However that may be,” he ventured, “a man who enters into a marriage contract—­”

“Marriage isn’t a contract,” interrupted Mr. Tutt.

“What is it?”

“It’s a status—­something entirely different—­like slavery.”

“It’s like slavery all right!” agreed Tutt.  “But we always speak of a contract of marriage, don’t we?”

“Quite inaccurately.  The only contract in a marriage is what we commonly refer to as the engagement; that is a real contract and is governed by the laws of contracts.  The marriage itself is an entirely different thing.  When a marriage is performed and consummated the parties have changed their condition; they bear an entirely new relationship to society, which, as represented by the state, acquires an interest in the transaction, and all you can say about it is that whereas they were both single before, they are married now, and that in the eyes of the law their status has been altered to one as distinct and clearly defined as that which exists between father and son, guardian and ward or master and slave.”

“Hear!  Hear!” remarked Tutt.  “But I don’t see why it isn’t a contract—­or very much like one,” he persisted.

“It is like one in that its validity, like that of civil contracts generally, is determined by the law governing the place where it was entered into,” went on Mr. Tutt oracularly, as if addressing the court of appeals.  “But it differs from a contract for the reason that the parties are not free to fix its terms, which are determined for them by the state; that they cannot modify or rescind it by mutual consent; that the nature of the marriage status changes with the state and the laws of the state where the parties happen to be domiciled; and that damages cannot be recovered for a breach of marital duty.”

“Do you know I never thought of that before,” admitted Tutt.  “But it’s perfectly true.”

“It is to the interest of society to have the relationship orderly and permanent,” continued his partner.  “That is why the state is so alert with regard to divorce proceedings and vigilant to prevent fraud or collusion.  You may say that the state is always a party to every matrimonial action—­even if it is not actually interpleaded—­and that such proceedings are triangular and minus many of the characteristics of the ordinary civil suit.”

“I suppose another reason for that is that originally marriage and divorce were entirely in the hands of the church, weren’t they?” ruminated Tutt.

“Exactly.  From very early days in England the church claimed jurisdiction of all matters pertaining to marriage, on the ground that it was a sacrament.”