Dot's smile widened at the jibe. She was hardly going to take offense at the implication that he might not want to marry her; she'd been the one who'd pressed not to debut, and even though the debut did seem to be in her future she doubted she would ever marry. Given her position on the matter, it would have been strange to take offense. (Though if she were to marry, he might not be a poor choice — traveling and adventuring as he so often did, at least he was bound to have interesting stories to tell over dinner).

"Unless you intend to roll it down the street and follow it along like a pup chasing a cat, I doubt it'll help you find much of anything," she pointed out. "You'd probably do better to ask for a compass. Or just come visit me for tea sometime," she continued lightly. "I'm sure I could draw up a whole list of suggestions, all more suitable than me." (In fact, this was a service she had performed — for no small fee — on one occasion for a particularly love-lorn young gentleman who had faced a spring of bad luck when it came to romance. The more salient part of her services rendered in that case had been sending a note to his laundress to use stronger soap on his clothing in order to mask his body odor; the gentleman was now engaged, and all thanks to Dot's consulting services).

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