Or he may actually recognise that Dilly has been replaced by Dolly,--this is what happens when the case is a really serious one,--and if this occurs he is more sorrowful than angry, poor fellow, for he sees that he is being trifled with; and your true lover is the most desperately earnest person in the world. In either case the _affaire_ terminates then and there. And that is how my sisters-in-law, with adroitness and despatch, return immature and undesirable suitors to their native element. The whole proceeding reminds me irresistibly of the Undersized Fish Bill, a measure whose progress I once assisted in its course through a Committee of the House. However, having been bidden to procure a Private Secretary, I meekly set about looking for one. One night at dinner we held a symposium on the subject, and endeavoured to evolve an outline of the kind of gentleman who was likely to suit us. The following is a _precis_ of the result. I leave the intelligent reader to trace each item to its author; also the various parenthetical comments on the same:-- (a) He must be a 'Varsity man. (b) He must be able to keep accounts, and transact business generally. (c) He must be content with a salary of two hundred a-year, with board and residence in the house. ("He can have that little room off the library for a sitting-room, dear, and sleep in the old night-nursery.") (d) He must not wear celluloid collars or made-up ties. ("But he'll _have_ to, poor dear, if the Infant Samuel only gives him two hundred a-year.") (e) He must be prepared to run through my speeches before I deliver them. ("I suppose that means _write_ them!"), look up my subject-matter, verify my references, and so on. ("That _will_ be an improvement. But what will the halfpenny papers do then, poor things?") (f) He must be the sort of man that one can have in to a dinner-party without any fear of accidents. ("Yes. He _must_ be all right about peas, asparagus, and liqueurs. _And_ finger-bowls, dearest. You remember the man who drank out of his at that queer political dinner to the constituents?") (g) He must be nice to my Philly. (h) He must be dark. ("Pshaw!") (i) He must be fair. ("Ugh!") (j) He must be able to waltz and play bridge. At this point I suggested that a prepaid telegram to the Celestial Regions would alone procure the article we required. However, we ultimately descended to an advertisement in the _Morning Post_, and in due course I obtained a secretary. In fact, I obtained several. We had them _seriatim_, and none stayed longer than a month. I do not propose to write a detailed history of the dynasty which I now found it my privilege to support. A brief _resume_ of each will suffice.