When he came back, Mrs. Cliff, who believed that his uneasy state of mind was the result of want of occupation and the monotonous life of a small town, advised him to go out West and visit Captain Horn. There was so much in that grand country to interest him and to occupy him, body and mind; but to this advice Mr. Burke stoutly objected.
"I'm not going out there," he said. "I've seen enough of Captain Horn and his wife. To tell you the truth, Mrs. Cliff, that's what's the matter with me."
"I don't understand you," said she.
"It's simply this," said Burke. "Since I've seen so much of the Captain and his wife, and the happiness they get out of each other, I've found out that the kind of happiness they've got is exactly the kind of happiness I want, and there isn't anything else—money, or land, or orange groves, or steamships—that can take the place of it."
"In other words," said Mrs. Cliff, with a smile, "you want to get married."
"You've hit it exactly," said he. "I want a wife. Of course I don't expect to get exactly such a wife as Captain Horn has—they're about as scarce as buried treasure, I take it—but I want one who will suit me and who is suited to me. That's what I want, and I shall never be happy until I get her."
"I should think it would be easy enough for you to get a wife, Mr. Burke," said Mrs. Cliff. "You are in the prime of life, you have plenty of money, and I don't believe it would be at all hard to find a good woman who would be glad to have you."
"That's what my mother said," said he. "When I was there she bored me from morning until night by telling me I ought to get married, and mentioning girls on Cape Cod who would be glad to have me. But there isn't any girl on Cape Cod that I want. To get rid of them, I came away sooner than I intended."
"Well then," said Mrs. Cliff, "perhaps there is some one in particular that you would like to have."
"That's it exactly," said Burke, "there is some one in particular."