“Look there now!--Strange creatures you men are! So like he looks to his poor father, who used to tell me that he loved to be contradicted, and yet who would not, I am sure, have lived three days with any woman who had ventured to contradict him directly. Whatever influence I obtained in his heart, and whatever happiness we enjoyed in our union, I attribute to my trusting to my observations on his character rather than to his own account of himself. Therefore I may be permitted to claim some judgment of what would suit your hereditary temper.” “Certainly, ma’am, certainly. But to come to the point at once, may I ask this plain question--Do you, by these reflections, mean to allude to any particular persons? Is there any woman in the world you at this instant would wish me to marry?” “Yes--Miss Walsingham.” Mr. Beaumont started with joyful surprise, when his mother thus immediately pronounced the very name he wished to hear. “You surprise and delight me, my dear mother!” “Surprise!--How can that be?--Surely you must know my high opinion of Miss Walsingham. But----” “But--you added _but_----” “There is no woman who may not be taxed with a _but_--yet it is not for her friend to lower her merit. My only objection to her is--I shall infallibly affront you, if I name it.” “Name it! name it! You will not affront me.” “My only objection to her then is, her superiority. She is so superior, that, forgive me, I don’t know any man, yourself not excepted, who is at all her equal.” “I think precisely as you do, and rejoice.” “Rejoice? why there I cannot sympathize with you. I own, as a mother, I should feel a little--a little mortified to see my son not the superior; and when the comparison is to be daily and hourly made, and to last for life, and all the world to see it as well as myself. I own I have a mother’s vanity. I should wish to see my son always what he has hitherto been--the superior, and master in his own house.” Mr. Beaumont made no reply to these insinuations, but walked on in silence; and his mother, unable to determine precisely whether the vexation apparent in his countenance proceeded from disapprobation of her observations, or from their working the effect she desired upon his pride, warily waited till he should betray some decisive symptom of his feelings. But she waited in vain--he was resolved not to speak. “There is not a woman upon earth I should wish so much to have as a daughter-in-law, a companion, and a friend, as Miss Walsingham. You must be convinced,” resumed Mrs. Beaumont, “so far as I am concerned, it is the most desirable thing in the world. But I should think it my duty to put my own feelings and wishes out of the question, and to make myself prefer whomsoever, all things considered, my judgment tells me would make you the happiest.” “And whom would your judgment prefer, madam?” “Why--I am not at liberty to tell--unless I could explain all my reasons. Indeed, I know not what to say.”