“How?--I suppose they judge by what they find in their own, my son; a common means of coming at a neighbour's failings, though I believe virtues are rarely detected by the same process.” “Ay, and judge of others by themselves. The means may be common, mother, but they are not infallible.” “Certainly not, Corny, and that will be a ground of hope to you. Remember, my child, you can bring me no daughter I shall love half as well as I feel I can love Anneke Mordaunt. We are related too, her father's great-great-grandmother----” “Never mind the great-great-grandmother, my dear, good, excellent, parent. After this I shall not attempt to have any secret from you. Unless Anneke Mordaunt consent to be your daughter, you will never have one.” “Do not say that, Corny, I beseech you,” cried my mother, a good deal frightened. “Remember there is no accounting for tastes; the army is a formidable rival, and, after all, this Mr. Bulstrode, I think you call him, may prove as acceptable to Anneke as to her father. Do not say so cruel a thing, I entreat of you, dearest, dearest, Corny.” “It is not a minute, mother, since you said how little you apprehended for me, when opposed by any other man in the province!” “Yes, child, but that is a very different thing from seeing you pass all your days as a heartless, comfortless old bachelor. There are fifty young women in this very county, I could wish to see you united to, in preference to witnessing such a calamity.” “Well, mother, we will say no more about it. But is it true that Mr. Worden actually intends to be of our party?” “Both Mr. Worden and Mr. Newcome, I believe. We shall scarcely know how to spare the first, but he conceives he has a call to accompany the army, in which there are so few chaplains; and souls are called to their last dread account so suddenly in war, that one does not know how to refuse to let him go.”