From which I have since drawn the curious conclusion that very young men and quite middle-aged ones are often attracted by the same sort of women.
"A fellow cannot get on without woman’s love," said grandpapa, suddenly, after a long silence. "At least, some fellows can’t--I can’t for one."
"A mother’s love is what you will soon be needing, dear one. I shall do the best I can."
"Bosh!" he said angrily. "That’s not love at all; it’s instinct. And I don’t want you to fuss over me when I become a child, mind that. Just keep me clean and tidy, and give me toys and tell me Bible stories. But don’t pretend you’re my mother then, because that’s outraging the laws of Nature, and people will laugh at you. I’m not talking of those matters now; I’m alluding to love."
"You said, when you left Upper Norwood, that you had done with that for ever."
"Yes, very likely; young men say foolish things. You can’t help fate. Marriages are made in heaven wholesale, though I admit they never guarantee the quality, and turn out a lot of goods that don’t wear. You observe that lock ahead? We’re going to lunch there. The lock-keeper is called Rose, and he has a daughter named Phyllis. She’s the daintiest, most exquisite, human thing I ever saw. No brains, thank God--I’ve had enough of clever women--but the disposition of an angel, eyes like grey rainclouds with sunshine in ’em, hair brown, lily-white hands, tiny feet, and everything complete. What’s more, the girl understands me."
"I may assume, then, grandfather, that you are engaged?"
"I will not deceive you, Martha; we are."
"To the ’second time of asking.’ I mean business this journey. We’re to be married after Henley. I didn’t tell you, because it would only have worried you, and, I fear, make you take kinder than ever to stimulant. I’ve arranged it all. We’re going to Scotland. Then, when I get a bit younger, I shall leave her a letter with all my money in it, and clear out and make away with myself. I was only pretending just now. I couldn’t stand childhood again, not even with you, let alone as a married man. I want you to be friends with her, and live with her after I am gone."
His voice broke, and, at the same moment we reached the lock.
"There you are!" said a soft, musical voice above us, and glancing up I saw Phyllis Rose. She was in truth a beautiful girl, dressed in her Sunday clothes, looking the pink of health and happiness.