For it was her twenty-fifth birthday, and twenty-fifth birthdays are prone to knock at the door of matrimonial possibilities.
Just then the knock seemed answered by Captain Prescott.

Unblushingly Miss Jones considered that doubtless before the summer was over she would be engaged to him.

And quite likely she would follow up the engagement with a wedding.

It seemed time for her to be following up some of her engagements.
She did not believe that she would at all mind marrying Harry Prescott.
All his people liked all hers, which would facilitate things at the wedding; she would not be rudely plunged into a new set of friends, which would be trying at her time of life.

Everything about him was quite all right: he played a good game of golf, not a maddening one of bridge, danced and rode in a sort of joy of living fashion.