“In the case of Sergeant Dunham’s daughter, I know no better reason than the fact that no officer is likely to wish to make her his wife,” returned Mabel, laughing.

“You may think so; but there are some in the 55th that know better.  There is certainly one officer in that regiment, Mabel, who does wish to make you his wife.”

Quick as the flashing lightning, the rapid thoughts of Mabel Dunham glanced over the five or six subalterns of the corps, who, by age and inclinations, would be the most likely to form such a wish; and we should do injustice to her habits, perhaps, were we not to say that a lively sensation of pleasure rose momentarily in her bosom, at the thought of being raised above a station which, whatever might be her professions of contentment, she felt that she had been too well educated to fill with perfect satisfaction.  But this emotion was as transient as it was sudden; for Mabel Dunham was a girl of too much pure and womanly feeling to view the marriage tie through anything so worldly as the mere advantages of station.  The passing emotion was a thrill produced by factitious habits, while the more settled opinion which remained was the offspring of nature and principles.

“I know no officer in the 55th, or any other regiment, who would be likely to do so foolish a thing; nor do I think I myself would do so foolish a thing as to marry an officer.”

“Foolish, Mabel!”

“Yes, foolish, Jasper.  You know, as well as I can know, what the world would think of such matters; and I should be sorry, very sorry, to find that my husband ever regretted that he had so far yielded to a fancy for a face or a figure as to have married the daughter of one so much his inferior as a sergeant.”

“Your husband, Mabel, will not be so likely to think of the father as to think of the daughter.”

The girl was talking with spirit, though feeling evidently entered into her part of the discourse; but she paused for nearly a minute after Jasper had made the last observation before she uttered another word.  Then she continued, in a manner less playful, and one critically attentive might have fancied in a manner slightly melancholy, —­

“Parent and child ought so to live as not to have two hearts, or two modes of feeling and thinking.  A common interest in all things I should think as necessary to happiness in man and wife, as between the other members of the same family.  Most of all, ought neither the man nor the woman to have any unusual cause for unhappiness, the world furnishing so many of itself.”

“Am I to understand, then, Mabel, you would refuse to marry an officer, merely because he was an officer?”

“Have you a right to ask such a question, Jasper?” said Mabel smiling.

“No other right than what a strong desire to see you happy can give, which, after all, may be very little.  My anxiety has been increased, from happening to know that it is your father’s intention to persuade you to marry Lieutenant Muir.”