FullReads

“IS any body dead?”

“Yes, somebody dies every second.”

“So they say. But I don’t mean that. Why are you looking so solemn?”

“I am not aware that I look so very solemn.”

“You do, then, as solemn as the grave.”

“Then I must be a grave subject.” The young man affected to smile.

“You smile like a death’s head, Abel. What is the matter?”

Abel Lee took his interrogator by the arm, and drew him aside. When they were a little apart from the company, he said in a low voice–

“You know that I have taken a fancy to Arabella Jones?”

“Yes, you told me that a month ago.”

“She is here to-night.”

“So I see.”

“And is as cold to me as an icicle.”

“For a very plain reason.”

“Yes, too plain.”

“Whiskers and moustaches are driving all before them. The man is nothing now; hair is every thing. Glover will carry off the prize unless you can hit upon some plan to win back the favour of Miss Arabella. You must come forward with higher attractions than this rival can bring.”

Lee drew his fingers involuntarily over his smooth lip and chin, a movement which his friend observed and comprehended.

“Before the hair can grow Arabella will be won,” he said.

“Do you think I would make such a fool of myself.”

“Fool of yourself! What do you mean by that? You say you love Arabella Jones. If you wish to win her, you must make yourself attractive in her eyes. To make yourself attractive, you have only to cultivate whiskers, moustaches, and an imperial, and present a more luxuriant crop than Glover. The whole matter is very simple, and comprised in a nut-shell. The only difficulty in the way is the loss of time consequent upon the raising of this hairy crop. It is plain, in fact, that you must take a shorter way; you must purchase what you haven’t time to grow. Hide yourself for a week or two, and then make your appearance with enough hair upon your face to conceal one-half or two-thirds of your features, and your way to the heart of Miss Jones is direct.”

“I feel too serious on the subject to make it a matter of jesting,” said Lee, not by any means relishing the levity of his friend.

“But, my dear sir,” urged the friend, “what I propose is your only chance. Glover will have it all his own way, if you do not take some means to head him off. The matter is plain enough. In the days of chivalry, a knight would do almost any unreasonable thing–enter upon almost any mad adventure–to secure the favour of his lady-love; and will you hesitate when nothing of more importance than the donning of false whiskers and moustaches is concerned? You don’t deserve to be thought of by Miss Jones.”

“Jest away, Marston, if it is so pleasant to you,” remarked Lee, with a slightly offended air.

“No, but my dear fellow, I am in earnest. I really wish to serve you. Still if the only plan at all likely to succeed is so repugnant to your feelings, you must let the whole matter go. Depend upon it, there is no other chance for you with the lady.”

“Then she must go. I would not make a fool of myself for the Queen of Sheba. A man who sacrifices his own self-respect in order to secure the love of a woman becomes unworthy of her love.”

“Well said, Abel Lee! That is the sentiment of a right mind, and proves to me that Arabella Jones is unworthy of you. Let her go to the whiskers, and do you try to find some one who has soul enough to love the man.”

The young men separated, to mingle with the company. Marston could not help noticing Miss Arabella Jones more particularly than before, and perceived that she was coldly polite to all the young men who ventured to approach her, but warm and smiling as a June morning to an individual named Glover who had been abroad and returned home rich in hairy honours, if in nothing else. The manners of this Glover distinguished him as much as his appearance.