ake your friend to be
of your own age, more or less?"

Cai nodded. "You're pretty quick at guessin', I must say."

"A trifle rusty, I fear, for want of practice. . . . But it will come
back. . . Now for the lady. Spinster or widow?"

"Does that matter?"

"It helps, in a letter."

"We'll put it, then, as she's a widow."

"Age? . . . There, there! I'm not asking you to be definite, of course:
but to give me a little general guidance. For instance, would she be
about your friend's age? Or younger, shall we say?"

"Younger."

"Considerably?"

"I don't see as you need lay stress on that."

"You may be sure I shall not," said Mr Benny, jotting down "Younger,
considerably" on his writing pad. "Moreover we can tone down or remove
anything that strikes you as unhappily worded in our first draft.
Trade, profession, or occupation, if any?" Seeing that Cai hesitated,
"The more candid your friend is, between these four walls," added Mr
Benny, extracting a hair from his pen, "the more persuasive we are
likely to be."

"You may set down that she keeps a farm."

"Independent means?"

"Well, yes, as it happens. Not that--"

"To be sure--to be sure! When the affections are engaged, that doesn't
weigh. Not, at any rate, with your friend. Still it may influence what
I will call, Captain Hocken, the style of the approach. Style, sir, has
been defined by my brother, Mr Joshua Benny--You may have heard of him,
by the way, as being prominently connected with the London press. . . .
No? A man of remarkable talent, though _I_ say it. They tell me that
for lightness of touch in a Descriptive Middle, it would be hard to find
his match in Fleet Street. . . . As I was saying, sir, my brother Joshua
has defined style as the art of speaking or writing with propriety,
whatever the subject. By propriety, sir, he means what is ordinarily
termed appropriateness. Impropriety, in the sense of indelicacy, is out
of the question in--a--a communication of this kind. Strict
appropriateness, on the other hand, is not always easy to capture.
May I take it that your friend has--er--enjoyed a seafaring past?"

Cai gazed blankly at him for a short while, and broke into a simple
hearty laugh.

"Why, of course," said he, "you're thinking of my friend 'Bias Hunken!
I almost took ye for a conjuror, first-along--upon my word I did!
But once I get the drift o' your cunning, 'tis easy as easy."
He gazed at Mr Benny and winked knowingl