"Probably some one man on an average falls in love with each ordinary woman.

She can marry him: he is content, and leads a useful life.

Such women as you a hundred men always covet--your eyes will bewitch scores on scores into an unavailing fancy for you--you can only marry one of that many.

Out of these say twenty will endeavour to drown the bitterness of despised love in drink; twenty more will mope away their lives without a wish or attempt to make a mark in he world, because they have no ambition apart from their attachment to you; twenty more--the susceptible person myself possibly among them--will be always draggling after you, getting where they may just see you, doing desperate things.
Men are such constant fools! The rest may try to get over their passion with more or less success.

But all these men will be saddened.