“Oh, yes,” said Goldsmith, “I think I gathered from your words all that you came hither to learn. Briefly, Colonel Gwyn, you are reluctant to subject yourself to the humiliation of having your suit rejected by the lady, and so you have come hither to try and learn from me what are your chances of success.” “How admirably you put the matter!” said Gwyn. “And I fancied you did not apprehend the purport of my visit. Well, sir, what chance have I?” “I cannot tell,” said Goldsmith. “Miss Horneck has never told me that she loved any man.” “Then I have still a chance?” “Nay, sir; girls do not usually confide the story of their attachments to their fathers--no, nor to their elder brothers. But if you wish to consider your chances with any lady, Colonel Gwyn, I would venture to advise you to go and stand in front of a looking-glass and ask yourself if you are the manner of man to whom a young lady would be likely to become attached. Add to the effect of your personality--which I think is great, sir--the glamour that surrounds the profession in which you have won distinction, and you will be able to judge for yourself whether your suit would be likely to be refused by the majority of young ladies.” “You flatter me, Dr. Goldsmith. But, assuming for a moment that there is some force in your words, I protest that they do not reassure me. Miss Horneck, sir, is not the lady to be carried away by the considerations that would prevail in the eyes of others of her sex.” “You have learned something of Miss Horneck, at any rate, Colonel Gwyn.” “I think I have, sir. When I think of her, I feel despondent. Does the man exist who would be worthy of her love?” “He does not, Colonel Gwyn. But that is no reason why she may not love some man. Does a woman only give her love to one who is worthy of it? It is fortunate for men that that is not the way with women. “It is fortunate; and in that reflection, sir, I find my greatest consolation at the present moment. I am not a bad man, Dr. Goldsmith--not as men go--there is in my lifetime nothing that I have cause to be ashamed of; but, I repeat, when I think of her sweetness, her purity, her tenderness, I am overcome with a sense of my own presumption in aspiring to win her. You think me presumptuous in this matter, I am convinced, sir.” “I do--I do. I know Mary Horneck.” “I give you my word that I am better satisfied with your agreement with me in this respect than I should be if you were to flatter me. Allow me to thank you for your great courtesy to me, sir. You have not sent me away without hope, and I trust that I may assume, Dr. Goldsmith, that I have your good wishes in this matter, which I hold to be vital to my happiness.” “Colonel Gwyn, my wishes--my prayers to Heaven are that Mary Horneck may be happy.” “And I ask for nothing more, sir. There is my hand on it.” Oliver Goldsmith took the hand that he but dimly saw stretched out to him. CHAPTER XXI.