“Well, that should make it easier,” said Miss Thane. “Very young ladies are apt to be romantic, and that would never do.”
“I certainly do not look for romance in marriage, but pray do not let my affairs—”
“It must be someone past the age of being hopeful of getting a husband,” pursued Miss Thane, sinking her chin in her hand again.
“Thank you!” said Sir Tristram.
“Not handsome—I do not think we can expect her to be more than passable,” decided Miss Thane. “Good birth would of course be an essential?”
“Really, Miss Thane, this conversation—”
“Luckily,” she said, “there are any number of plain females of good birth but small fortune to be found in town. You may meet a few at the subscription balls at Almack’s, but I dare say I could find you a dozen to choose from whose Mamas have long since ceased to take them to the ‘Marriage Market’. After a certain number of seasons they have to yield place to younger sisters, you know.”
“You are too kind, ma’am!”
“Not at all; I shall be delighted to help you,” Miss Thane assured him. “I have just the sort of female that would suit you in my mind’s eye. A good, affectionate girl, with no pretensions to beauty, and a grateful disposition. She must be past the age of wanting to go to parties, and she must not expect you to make pretty speeches to her. I wonder—Would you object to her having a slight—a very slight squint in one eye?”
“Yes, I should,” said Sir Tristram. “Nor have I the smallest desire to—”