field meant to go his own way:
"the way of a better man than I shall ever be," he said. Failing to
change his principles, or guide his practice, my aunt next became
anxious to find him a wife. "Medical men and country parsons ought to
be married," said she, "and it will settle him."

She selected a young lady of the neighbourhood, the daughter of a
medical man. "Most suitable," said my aunt (by which she meant not
_quite_ up to the standard she would have exacted for a son of her
own), "and with a little money." She patronised this young lady, and
even took her with us one day to lunch at the Rectory; but when she
said something to Mr. Clerke on the subject, she found him utterly
obdurate. "What does he expect, I wonder?" cried my aunt, rather
unfairly, for the Rector had not given utterance to any matrimonial
hopes. She always said, "She never could feel that Mr. Clerke had
behaved well to poor Letitia Ramsay," which used to make downright
Polly very indignant. "He didn't behave badly to her. It was mamma who
always took her everywhere where he was; and how she could stand it, I
don't know! He never flirted with her, Regie."

The next few years of my life seemed to whirl by. They were very happy
ones. My dear father lived, and our mutual affection only grew
stronger as time went on.

Then, when I was a man, it gradually dawned upon me, through many
hints, that my father had the same anxiety for me that Aunt Maria had
had for the Rector. He wished me to marry. At one time or another my
fancy had been taken by pretty girls, some of whom were unsuitable in
every respect but prettiness, and some of whom failed to return my
admiration. My dear father would not have dreamed of urging on me a
marriage against my inclinations, but he would have preferred a lady
with some fortune as his daughter-in-law.

"Our family is an old one, my dear boy," he said, "but the estate is
much smaller than it was in my great-grandfather's time. Don't suppose
that I would have you marry for money alone; but if the lady should be
well portioned, sir, so much the better--so much the better."

At last he seemed to set his heart upon my having one of Aunt Maria's
daughters. People who live years and years on their own country
estates without going much from home are apt sometimes to fancy that
there is nothing like their own family circle. My father had a great
objection, too, to what he called "modern young ladies." I think he
thought that, a