PROLOGUE.

Ah, the misfortune of being wealthy, the misery of being handsome, the disadvantage of a divine moustache and a dimple in the chin, the affliction of having wavy hair and dark eyes, the forlorn condition of a man who is very clever, who never makes a bad joke, who is such "good company," such a "jolly dog," such a "happy creature" and "fortunate fellow"! Oh the calamity of possessing a romantic country-seat and fine horses!—the ill-starred luck of a person who is always finding a moon that shines beautifully, a sun that is never too hot, long walks that cannot be too long, and drives that are "so delightful"!

I am the unhappy victim of a fate which in spiteful mood gifted me beyond my fellow-men. I might have had my share of enjoyment in the world, as mediocre people have, but my perfections are in my way at every turn, continually marring my prospects. A superficial observer might think that these advantages would have the contrary effect—that I should be more fortunate than others—but my story will prove my assertion. Take, for example, my difficulties as a "marrying man." I will relate my experience during the past three years, and you can judge for yourself.