The commissioner begged an explanation; but when he had heard all Mrs. Falconer’s reasons, they did not seem to strike him with the force she desired and expected.
“I will do as you please, my dear,” said he, “and, if I can, I will make the count forget my promised introduction to the Percys; but all the time, depend upon it, your fears and your hopes are both equally vain. You ladies are apt to take it for granted that men’s heads are always running on love.”
“Young men’s heads sometimes are,” said Mrs. Falconer.
“Very seldom in these days,” said the commissioner. “And love altogether, as one should think you might know by this time, Mrs. Falconer—a sensible woman of the world, as you are; but no woman, even the most sensible, can ever believe it—love altogether has surprisingly little to do in the real management and business of the world.”
“Surprisingly little,” replied Mrs. Falconer, placidly. “But seriously, my dear, here is an opportunity of making an excellent match for Georgiana, if you will be so obliging as not to counteract me.”
“I am the last man in the world to counteract you, my dear; but it will never do,” said Mr. Falconer; “and you will only make Georgiana ridiculous, as she has been several times already, from the failure of these love-matches. I tell you, Mrs. Falconer, Count Altenberg is no more thinking of love than I am—nor is he a man in the least likely to fall in love.”
“He is more than half in love with my Georgiana already,” said the mother, “if I have any eyes.”
“You have eyes, and very fine eyes, my dear, as every body knows, and no one better than myself—they have but one defect.”
“Defect!”
“They sometimes see more than exists.”