"Why, colonel," said his lordship, "by all means go back and take your dinner with Sir George; you may find out something about Darnley; I am in no hurry for your return, only let me know all that you can collect concerning this young lady; and above all endeavour to find out whether Mr Robert Darnley is spoken of as her future husband, or whether the acquaintance between them is broken off. That is all I wish to ascertain at present. I shall then know how to act. For don't you see that, if Darnley keeps at a distance in consequence of the present reports, I am more likely to have her on my own terms. There is no heart so easy to win as that of a disappointed lover." With his instructions back went the colonel to Neverden. And as we have not the opportunity of giving verbal or senatorial advice to mighty and puissant princes, we will here do all we can for the good of our country, and of all countries into the language of which this history may be translated, by advising and most earnestly recommending that blockheads, however valorous or gallant, like our friend Colonel Crop, be not employed in diplomatic offices. There is a very great difference between the vigorous arm that can break a man's head, and the ingenious dexterity which can bend a man's heart. And, generally speaking, those people can have but little regard for brains, whose business it is to knock them out. For want of a dexterous diplomatist, Lord Spoonbill, as we shall see hereafter, was exposed to great inconvenience, and suffered mighty and serious disappointment. Colonel Crop was not sorry that leave was granted him to dine at Sir George Aimwell's. For the baronet had an excellent cook, and the cook had an excellent place, and few are the instances in which there exists so good an understanding between master and servant, as in the present case there did between the worthy magistrate and his as worthy cook. Whether Colonel Crop did or did not possess the organ of hope strongly developed in his skull, we cannot tell, for the gallant colonel has not yet been hanged; if he had, we might have found any organs we pleased; but we may suppose that he had the organ of anticipativeness, for his thoughts dwelt so seriously and intently upon the good dinner that he was likely to enjoy at Sir George Aimwell's table, that he did actually and truly forget a great part of his errand. Oh, how selfish is mortal man!