"And prescribes eating," said Leah, humorously. "I never knew Sir Billy was so young. Thank him for me, Fanny, and tell him that when I think of taking a second I'll give him a look in." "Oh, Billy has thought of that already--such a boy as he is. You're sure to have a badly spelt proposal from him, dear. But seriously speaking, will you,--oh, of course you will." "Why should I?--you have not." "My heart is buried in the grave of Billy's father," murmured Lady Richardson, pensively. "Dig it up again." "Well, there's Reggy Lake, of course; but he's so poor." "All the more reason that he should propose. You have a good jointure." "Settled entirely on myself," said the little woman, shrewdly; then added romantically, "I must be loved for myself alone." "Oh!" Lady Jim shrugged. "If you expect miracles!" "Really, Leah!" Her visitor became pinker than her rouge. "I mean that men are selfish, dear. They always have their eye on the cash-box, you know." "I hope that won't be your fate, darling," was the spiteful reply, for Lady Richardson always scratched back. "Oh, my face is my fortune, Fanny. Jim, poor dear spendthrift, has left me with only a few thousands, which won't last long." "I should think not, in your hands, dear. But there is Mr. Askew and Dr. Demetrius--both admire you." "Admiration does not necessarily mean marriage. And at present I think more of my loss than of a second husband." "So sweet of you, and so proper. But you might take a look at the market. Mr. Trent, now, the South African. He's a millionaire." "So I should think, from his manners." "Lord Canvey!" "Would give me a grandmother-in-law of the worst." "Sir Jacob Machpelah!" "The man who has taken his name from Abraham's cemetery? I suppose he thought it sounded Scotch. No, thanks. My name is Hebrew, but my tastes are Gentile." "Johnny Danesbury!" "A penny doll with a squeak. I want a man." "Colonel Harrington!" "He's a brute, without instinct. I begin to think you keep a matrimonial agency, Fanny." "It wouldn't pay, were you my only client," retorted Lady Richardson, still remembering the miracle dig. "No one seems to satisfy you. I believe you mean to marry Askew, after all. What of him?" "He's a nice footman, and doesn't ask wages. Aren't these suggestions rather premature? My heart, like yours, may be in my husband's grave." "I didn't know he was buried yet," said the little woman, crossly. "How impossible you are, darling!" "Always, when people get on my nerves, dear." "I believe you want some other woman's husband?" "Oh dear no! I never covet my neighbour's ass."