Who is to know the fit one in these mines of deception?
Women of the class offering wives decline to be taken on trial; they are boxes of puzzles--often dire surprises.

Her brother knew them well enough to shy at the box.

Her brother Rowsley had a funny pride, like a boy at a game, at the never having been caught by one among the many he made captive.

She let him have it all to himself.
He boasted it to a sister sharing the pride exultant in the cry of the hawk, scornful of ambitions poultry, a passed finger-post to the plucked, and really regretful that no woman had been created fit for him.

When she was not aiding with her brother, women, however contemptible for their weakness, appeared to her as better than barn-door fowl, or vermin in their multitudes gnawing to get at the cheese-trap.