Selina and Lady Eltondale were together, when the Viscountess was presented with an enormous packet, sealed with a coat of arms as ample in its expansion as it was modern in its date; "Good Heavens!" exclaimed her Ladyship, holding up the cover, "arms! and the man; here, Selina, the envelope only is for me: your _nouveau riche_ admirer requests I will present to you this inimitable manuscript." Selina hastily ran over the composition, which had cost some hours to indite; and then, no longer able to keep her countenance, burst into a hearty fit of laughter, while her cheeks mantled with blushes, "Well, at last, Lady Eltondale, here is the promised proposal: I had no idea what a real love letter was--pray read it." "No my dear; excuse me, my dear: all such tender professions are similar, they '_consistent ‡ dire aux femmes avec un esprit lÈger et une ame de glace, tout ce qu'on ne croit pas, et tout ce qu'on voudrait leur faire croire_[7].' I am much more curious to know what your answer will be."--"A refusal undoubtedly," replied Miss Seymour; "but I must request of you, Lady Eltondale, to convey it for me." "You know, Selina, you are your own mistress; it is unnecessary for me to offer any advice." Selina felt the rebuke; but before she could make any apology, her aunt continued, "In this instance I think you right: title, my dear, is the only thing to marry for; it is terrible to be obliged to purchase one's place in society; and even the richest commoners are only valued in proportion to their expenditure; whereas a nobleman maybe as poor and as shabby as he pleases, his wife must always have precedence." "But surely, Lady Eltondale, you would not have me marry for precedence." "It is what ninety-nine girls out of a hundred marry for," resumed the Viscountess, with perfect _sang froid_; "and as I do not see much difference in your character from that of the rest of your sex, I conclude what makes others happy would satisfy you." "I think," replied Selina, hesitatingly, "I should never be happy, unless I married a man whom I loved and esteemed, and who, I was very sure, loved me." "Ha! ha! ha! very sentimental, indeed! Child, that would do admirably for a novel, but in real life, take my word, such nice distinctions are but little attended to: fine feeling is an essence, that soon evaporates when exposed to common air; it is generally adviseable to have something substantial at bottom, to fill up the phial when the effervescence subsides." "But, is it possible, Lady Eltondale, that you would have me marry a man I could not love or esteem, or who did not love me?" inquired Selina, in a tone of gravity more approaching to censure, than her noble aunt had ever before heard her use. "Pian! piano! carissima! half your proposition is defensible; and to that half I willingly accede. When a woman marries, the only thing necessary for her to be assured of, is her own heart, or rather her own mind.