“It would be but an indifferent question, my dear Major, that hadn’t two sides to it; and I’ve known many that had three.  But the poor woman’s dead, and there was no issue; so nothing came of it after all.  Then, I was particularly unfortunate with my second wife; I say second, Major, out of deference to you, and on the mere supposition that the first was a marriage at all; but first or second, I was particularly unfortunate with Jeannie Graham, who died in the first lustrum, leaving neither chick nor chiel behind her.  I do think, if Jeannie had survived, I never should have turned my thoughts towards another wife.”

“But as she did not, you married twice after her death; and are desirous of doing so a third time.”

“The truth can never justly be gainsaid, Major Duncan, and I am always ready to avow it.  I’m thinking, Lundie, you are melancholar this fine evening?”

“No, Muir, not melancholy absolutely; but a little thoughtful, I confess.  I was looking back to my boyish days, when I, the laird’s son, and you, the parson’s, roamed about our native hills, happy and careless boys, taking little heed to the future; and then have followed some thoughts, that may be a little painful, concerning that future as it has turned out to be.”

“Surely, Lundie, ye do not complain of yer portion of it.  You’ve risen to be a major, and will soon be a lieutenant-colonel, if letters tell the truth; while I am just one step higher than when your honored father gave me my first commission, and a poor deevil of a quartermaster.”

“And the four wives?”

“Three, Lundie; three only that were legal, even under our own liberal and sanctified laws.”

“Well, then, let it be three.  Ye know, Davy,” said Major Duncan, insensibly dropping into the pronunciation and dialect of his youth, as is much the practice with educated Scotchmen as they warm with a subject that comes near the heart, —­ “ye know, Davy, that my own choice has long been made, and in how anxious and hope-wearied a manner I’ve waited for that happy hour when I can call the woman I’ve so long loved a wife; and here have you, without fortune, name, birth, or merit —­ I mean particular merit —­ "

“Na, na; dinna say that, Lundie.  The Muirs are of gude bluid.”

“Well, then, without aught but bluid, ye’ve wived four times —­ "

“I tall ye but thrice, Lundie.  Ye’ll weaken auld friendship if ye call it four.”

“Put it at yer own number, Davy; and it’s far more than yer share.  Our lives have been very different, on the score of matrimony, at least; you must allow that, my old friend.”

“And which do you think has been the gainer, Major, speaking as frankly thegither as we did when lads?”

“Nay, I’ve nothing to conceal.  My days have passed in hope deferred, while yours have passed in —­ "

“Not in hope realized, I give you mine honor, Major Duncan,” interrupted the Quartermaster.  “Each new experiment I have thought might prove an advantage; but disappointment seems the lot of man.  Ah! this is a vain world of ours, Lundie, it must be owned; and in nothing vainer than in matrimony.”