For instance, I was talking to Jane about her lovers--I did not put you among them--and she said, 'Mrs.
Hatton, there are no lovers in these days.

The men that are men are no longer knights-errant.

They don't fight in the tournament lists for their lady-love, nor even sing serenades under her window in the moonlight.

We must look for them,' she said, 'in Manchester warehouses, or Yorkshire spinning-mills.

The knights-errant are all on the stock exchange, and the poets write for _Punch_.' And I could not help laughing, and she laughed too, and her laugh was so infectious I could not get clear of it, and so poured my next cup of tea on the tea board." "I wish I had been present." "So do I, John.