You did not remember, perhaps, that I was so much younger than you ?" Mr.Dale pulled off his red handkerchief, and wiped his forehead; after which he said quite violently, "The devil!" "Oh," remonstrated Mr.Denner, balancing his mug on his knee, and lifting his hands deprecatingly, "not such words, Henry,--not such words; we are speaking of ladies, Henry." Mr.Dale was silent.
"You have no idea," the other continued, "in your comfortable house, with a good wife, who makes you perfectly happy, how lonely a man is who lives as I do; and I can tell you, the older he grows, the more he feels it.

So really, age is a reason for considering it." "I was not thinking of age," said Mr.Dale feebly.
"Well, then," replied the other triumphantly, "age is the only objection that could be urged.

A man is happier and better for female influence; and the dinners I have are really not--not what they should be, Henry.
That would all be changed, if I had a--ah--wife." "Denner," said his friend, "there are circumstances where a dinner of herbs is more to be desired than a stalled ox, you will remember." "That is just how I feel," said the other eagerly, and too much interested in his own anxieties to see Mr.Dale's point.

"Mary is not altogether amiable." Again Mr.Dale was silent.
"I knew you would see the--the--desirability of it," the lawyer continued, the flush of embarrassment fading away, "and so I decided to ask your advice.

I thought that, not only from your own--ah--heart, but from the novels and tales you read, you would be able to advise me in any matter of esteem." Mr.Dale groaned, and shook his head from side to side.
"But, good Lord, Denner, books are one thing, life's another.