"Madam," I began, "what can I do for you?"

"Sir," she replied, "I have heard the whole of your conversations with my
daughters, and you must confess that you have not talked to them in a
very fatherly manner."

"Quite so, but the only part which I desire to play with them is that of
lover, and a fatherly style would not have been suitable to the part. If
I had the happiness of being their father, the case would be altered.
What I have said to your daughters is what I feel, and what I think most
likely to bring about the end I have in view. I have not the slightest
pretence to virtue, but I adore the fair sex, and now you and they know
the road to my purse. If they wish to preserve their virtue, why let
them; nobody will trouble them, and they, on their side, must not expect
anything from men. Good-bye, madam; you may reckon on my never addressing
your daughters again."

"Wait a moment, sir. My husband was the Count of----, and you see that my
daughters are of respectable birth."

"Have you not pity for our situation?"

"I pity you extremely, and I would relieve you in an instant if your
daughters were ugly, but as it is they are pretty, and that alters the
case."

"What an argument!"

"It is a very strong one with me, and I think I am the best judge of
arguments which apply to myself. You want twenty guineas; well, you shall