Easelmann, with his usual raillery, congratulated his friend on his prospects, and declared that the pupil was surpassing the teacher in the beau’s arts.

“Finely, Greenleaf!  You are just coming to the interesting part of the process.  You are a little flushed, however,—­not quite cool enough.  A wily adversary she is; if you allow your feelings to run away with you, it’s all up.  She will hold the reins as coolly as you held your trotting pony yesterday.  Keep the bits out of your mouth, my boy.”

“Don’t trouble yourself.  I shall keep cool.  I am not going to make a fool of myself by proposing.”

“Oh, you aren’t?  We shall see.  But she’ll refuse you, and then you’ll come to your senses.”

“I’m deusedly afraid she would accept me.”

“The vanity of mankind!  Don’t tell me that women are vain.  Every man thinks himself irresistible,—­that he has only to call, to have the women come round him like colts around a farmer with a measure of corn.  Shake the kernels in your dish, and cry, ‘Kerjock!’ Perhaps she will come.”

“I suppose you think, with Hosea Bigelow, that

  “‘’Ta’n’t a knowin’ kind o’ cattle
   That is ketched with mouldy corn.’”

“I needn’t tell you that Marcia Sandford is knowing,—­too knowing to let an enthusiastic lover relapse into a humdrum husband.  You amuse her now:  for she likes to enjoy poetry and sentiment, dances, rides, and rambles, in company with a man of fresh susceptibilities;—­a good phrase that, ’fresh susceptibilities.’—­The instant you become serious and ask her to marry you, the dream is over; she will hate you.”

“Well, what is to become of a lady like this,—­a creature you think too bright, if not too good, for human nature’s daily food?”

“An easy prophecy.  The destiny of a pretty woman is to catch lovers.”

“‘The cat doth play, and after slay,’” said Greenleaf, laughing.

“Play while you can, my dear boy; if she is a cat, you’ll get the final coup soon enough.  To finish the fortune-telling,—­she will continue her present delightful pursuits as long as youth and beauty last; and the beauty will last a long time after the youth has gone.  She may pick up some young man of fortune and marry him; but it is not likely; the rich always marry the rich.  Just this side of the blase period, while still in the fulness of her charms, she will open her battery of smiles upon some wealthy old widower and compel him to place her at the head of his establishment.  Then, with a secure position and increased facilities, she will draw new throngs of admirers, as long as she has power to fascinate, or until there are no more fools left.”

“A pleasing picture of domestic felicity for the husband!”

“Precisely what he deserves.  When an old fool marries a young flirt, he deserves to wear whatever honors she may bestow upon him.”