COLONEL MORLEY.--"I gather from what you say that you are here with the
intention to--to--"

"Marry again," said Darrell, firmly. "Right. I am."

"I always felt sure you would marry again. Is the lady here too?"

"What lady?"

"The lady you have chosen."

"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