Lord Henry was therefore thrown on the company of Sir Joseph's party, and he entertained them, or perhaps disturbed them, as they digested their breakfast, by discussing various aspects of English matrimonial arrangements. He had ruminated overnight the principle that Mrs. Delarayne had laid down in regard to Leonetta,—"that she was much too good for Denis Malster,"—and he was beginning to see that it was entirely justified.
"It is a pity," he declared, addressing Miss Mallowcoid, "that it is almost impossible in this country to arrange matches. I don't see why you can't, but you can't."
Denis Malster, Guy, and the Tribes dropped their newspapers, and Sir Joseph doing likewise, regarded the young nobleman with a perplexed frown.
"Think of the terrible responsibility!" exclaimed Miss Mallowcoid.
"Yes, but that should not deter us,—surely!" Lord Henry rejoined. "Everything relating to parenthood is responsibility, why shirk that last duty of all?"
"But they wouldn't let us," Miss Mallowcoid objected.
"Because they don't trust you," Lord Henry replied. "That must be the reason. They have learned not to trust the mature adult. British parents are either too indolent, or too incompetent to do the thing properly. And the consequence is young people have been trained by tradition to believe that, in the matter of choosing their mates, concerning which they know literally nothing, and are taught less, they must be left to their own silly romantic devices."
"But look at the results!" said Miss Mallowcoid. "Surely the arrangement works."
"Does it? That's precisely what I question," Lord Henry cried.
"You don't mean to say, do you," Denis Malster enquired, "that you would accept a wife chosen for you by your parents?"