The immediate subject in her mind, however, was one which was very clearly suggested by the visit which she was about to make; and when her brother joined her at the Rectory Gate, she led him up to it artfully with many seeming innocent remarks, though it was with a little timidity and nervousness that she actually introduced at last the real matter which occupied her thoughts. “You will laugh, I know,” she said, “but I don’t think it at all a laughing matter, Edgar. Please tell me, without any nonsense, do you ever think that you must marry--some time or other? I knew you would laugh; but it is not any nonsense that is in my mind.” “Shouldn’t I return the question, and ask you, ‘Do you ever think that you must marry, Clare?’” said Edgar, when his laugh was over. Clare drew up her stately head with all the dignified disapproval which so much levity naturally called forth. “That is quite a different matter,” she said, impatiently. “I may or may not; it is my own affair; but you _must_.” “Why must I? I do not see the necessity,” said Edgar, still with a smile. “You must, however. You are the last of our family. Why, because it is your duty! Arden has not gone out of the direct line for two hundred and fifty years. You must not only marry, but you must marry very soon.” “There remains only to indicate the lady,” said Edgar. “Tell me that too, and then I shall be easy in my mind.” “Edgar, I wish you would not be so teasing. Of course, I don’t want to indicate the lady; but I will tell you, if you like, the kind of person she ought to be. She _must_ be well born; that is quite indispensable; any other deficiency may be taken into consideration, but birth we cannot do without. And she must be young, and handsome, and good--but not too good. And if she had some money--just enough to make her feel comfortable----” “This is a paragon of all virtues and qualities,” said Edgar; “but where to be found? and when we find her, why should she condescend to me?” “Condescend! Nonsense!” cried Clare. “You are just as good as she is;--so long as you are not carried away by a pretty face. It is so humbling to see you men. A pretty face carries the day with you over everything. Can you fancy anything more humiliating to a girl? She may be good, and wise, and clever, and yet people only want to marry her because her cheek has a pretty colour or her eyes are bright. I think it is almost as bad as if it were for money. To be married for your beauty! Every bit as bad--or even worse; for the money will last at least, and the beauty can’t.” “But, my dear Clare, I don’t want to marry--either for beauty or anything else,” said Edgar. “But you must marry,” repeated his sister, peremptorily. “If you had set your heart upon it, Edgar, I would not mind Gussy Thornleigh. I should like Ada a great deal better; but of course they have the same belongings. I think she is rather frivolous, and a great chatterbox; but still if you like her best----”