Ought he not to think himself peculiarly lucky in having found for himself so eligible a companion?
But there is something so solemn, so sacred, in the name of wife.

A man brought up among soft things is so imbued with the feeling that his wife should be something better, cleaner, sweeter, holier than himself that he could not but be awe-struck when he thought that he was bound to marry this all but nameless widow of some drunken player,--this woman who, among other women, had been thought unfit for all companionship! But things arrange themselves.

How probable it was that he would never be married to her.

After all, this might be but an incident, and not an unpleasant incident, in his life.

He had had his amusement out of it, and she had had hers.