had proposed for Mr. Alfred's sister, Miss Caroline Percy. She was really
sorry the match was not to take place, for she had heard a very high
character of the young lady in every way, and her nephew was rich enough
to do without fortune--not but what that would be very acceptable to all
men--especially young men, who are now mostly all for money instead of all
for love--except in the case of very first rate extraordinary beauty, which
therefore making a woman a prey, just as much one as the other, might be
deemed a misfortune as great, though hardly _quite_, Mrs. Buckhurst said,
as she had found a great fortune in her own particular case. The involution
of meaning in these sentences rendering it not easy to be comprehended, the
dean stood it pretty well, only stirring his coffee, and observing that it
was cold; but when his lady went on to a string of interrogatories about
Miss Caroline Percy--on the colour of her eyes and hair--size of her mouth
and nose--requiring in short a complete full-length portrait of the young
lady, poor Buckhurst set down his cup, and pleading business in his study,
left the field open to Alfred.

"Near-sighted glasses! Do you never use them, Mr. Percy?" said Mrs. Dean
Falconer, as she thought Alfred's eyes fixed upon her spectacles, which lay
on the table.

No--he never used them, he thanked her: he was rather far-sighted than
short-sighted. She internally commended his politeness in not taking them
up to verify her assertion, and put them into her pocket to avoid all
future danger.

He saw it was a favourable moment, and entered at once into his
business--beginning by observing that the dean was much out of spirits. The
moment money was touched upon, the curmudgeon look returned upon the lady;
and for some time Alfred had great difficulty in making himself heard: she