against hasty marriages where a mutual flame is fanned by an adequate income.  My own was a love-match contracted in a hurry.  There are plenty of instances in the experience of every one, of short courtships and speedy marriages, which have turned up trumps—­I beg your pardon—­which have turned out well after all.  But if you and my niece, Mr. Vanstone, are to add one to the number of these eases, the usual preliminaries of marriage among the higher classes must be hastened by some means.  You doubtless understand me as now referring to the subject of settlements.”

“I’ll take another teaspoonful of brandy,” said Noel Vanstone, holding out his glass with a trembling hand as the word “settlements” passed Captain Wragge’s lips.

“I’ll take a teaspoonful with you,” said the captain, nimbly dismounting from the pedestal of his respectability, and sipping his brandy with the highest relish.  Noel Vanstone, after nervously following his host’s example, composed himself to meet the coming ordeal, with reclining head and grasping hands, in the position familiarly associated to all civilized humanity with a seat in a dentist’s chair.

The captain put down his empty glass and got up again on his pedestal.

“We were talking of settlements,” he resumed.  “I have already mentioned, Mr. Vanstone, at an early period of our conversation, that my niece presents the man of her choice with no other dowry than the most inestimable of all gifts—­the gift of herself.  This circumstance, however (as you are no doubt aware), does not disentitle me to make the customary stipulations with her future husband.  According to the usual course in this matter, my lawyer would see yours—­consultations would take place—­delays would occur—­strangers would be in possession of your intentions—­and Mrs. Lecount would, sooner or later, arrive at that knowledge of the truth which you are anxious to keep from her.  Do you agree with me so far?”

Unutterable apprehension closed Noel Vanstone’s lips.  He could only reply by an inclination of the head.

“Very good,” said the captain.  “Now, sir, you may possibly have observed that I am a man of a very original turn of mind.  If I have not hitherto struck you in that light, it may then be necessary to mention that there are some subjects on which I persist in thinking for myself.  The subject of marriage settlements is one of them.  What, let me ask you, does a parent or guardian in my present condition usually do?  After having trusted the man whom he has chosen for his son-in-law with the sacred deposit of a woman’s happiness, he turns round on that man, and declines to trust him with the infinitely inferior responsibility of providing for her pecuniary future.  He fetters his son-in-law with the most binding document the law can produce, and employs with the husband of his own child the same precautions which he would use if he were dealing with a stranger and a rogue.  I call such conduct as this inconsistent and unbecoming