John Beacham laughed. “There’d be plenty,” he rejoined, “if they were only bold enough, that you’d hear say that same, mother; for Honor is far and away too good for a man of my age, who has got somehow into bachelor ways, and who’s a rough out-of-doors kind of man compared to her. Yes, she’s far and away too good, and so you’ll think, mother, when you come to know her better. She’s as gentle as a lamb, and as playful, pretty creature! as a kitten, and not a bit vain nor stuck up, for all that she must know how beautiful she is. So very beautiful and delicate! Why she’s like a precious bit of china, or one of the sweet pink-and-white flowers in the Castle conservatory. I don’t wonder that people talk of her, or that they come from miles away to Switcham church just to get a look at the blue-eyed Irish girl--the darling that, with your leave, dear mother, I hope on May-day next to call my wife.” John Beacham was certainly not intended by nature for a diplomatist; nevertheless, he showed some knowledge of human nature, and of his mother’s nature in particular, when he adduced the fact that the fame of Honor’s beauty had spread far and wide, as an argument in favour of his marriage. If Mrs. Beacham possessed one ingrained weakness more patent than the rest, it was that very common one of steadfastly believing each and all of her belongings to be incalculably superior to those of a similar nature owned by anyone else. That her son’s wife would be beautiful beyond the average loveliness of womankind was a great point in favour of Mrs. Beacham’s future daughter-in-law. The worthy woman forgot--as who would not have done under the circumstances?--that beauty is a dangerous gift, and that a “fair woman,” should she chance to be without “discretion,” is often very inconveniently placed in a sober and quiet man’s household. For the moment too the old lady, who loved rule so well, forgot that the more attractive in person was her son’s bride, the less chance did there exist that she herself could “hold her own” against this new and overwhelming influence. For the hour, however, maternal love and a certain sense of gratified pride being in the ascendant, she replied to John’s eulogium in a manner which, notwithstanding the tone of plaintive resignation that marked her words, sent John reassured and comforted to bed.