"Tush! I have chosen none. I come here to choose; and in this I ask advice from your experience. I would marry again! I! at my age! Ridiculous! But so it is. You know all the mothers and marriageable daughters that London--/arida nutrix/--rears for nuptial altars: where, amongst them, shall I, Guy Darrell, the man whom you think so enviable, find the safe helpmate, whose love he may reward with munificent jointure, to whose child he may bequeath the name that has now no successor, and the wealth he has no heart to spend?" Colonel Morley--who, as we know, is by habit a matchmaker, and likes the vocation--assumes a placid but cogitative mien, rubs his brow gently, and says in his softest, best-bred accents, "You would not marry a mere girl? some one of suitable age. I know several most superior young women on the other side of thirty, Wilhelmina Prymme, for instance, or Janet--" DARRELL.--"Old maids. No! decidedly no!" COLONEL MORLEY (suspiciously).--"But you would not risk the peace of your old age with a girl of eighteen, or else I do know a very accomplished, well-brought-up girl; just eighteen, who--" DARRELL.--"Re-enter life by the side of Eighteen! am I a madman?" COLONEL MORLEY.--"Neither old maids nor young maids; the choice becomes narrowed. You would prefer a widow. Ha! I have thought of one; a prize, indeed, could you but win her, the widow of--" DARRELL.--"Ephesus!--Bah! suggest no widow to me. A widow, with her affections buried in the grave!" MORLEY.--"Not necessarily. And in this case--" DARRELL (interrupting, and with warmth).--"In every case I tell you: no widow shall doff her weeds for me. Did she love the first man? Fickle is the woman who can love twice. Did she not love him? Why did she marry him? Perhaps she sold herself to a rent-roll? Shall she sell herself again to me for a jointure? Heaven forbid! Talk not of widows. No dainty so flavourless as a heart warmed up again." COLONEL MORLEY.--"Neither maids, be they old or young, nor widows. Possibly you want an angel. London is not the place for angels." DARRELL.--"I grant that the choice seems involved in perplexity. How can it be otherwise if one's self is perplexed? And yet, Alban, I am serious; and I do not presume to be so exacting as my words have implied. I ask not fortune, nor rank beyond gentle blood, nor youth nor beauty nor accomplishments nor fashion, but I do ask one thing, and one thing only." COLONEL MORLEY.--"What is that? you have left nothing worth the having to ask for."