Free To Sail Beyond the Sunset by Robert A. Heinlein

be what is called an ‘eligible bachelor’—eligible quite aside from the Foundation and its money.
    “He will be young, not more than ten years older than you are, but more likely about your age—”
    “Fifteen?” I was amazed. Shocked.
    “Simmer down, flame top. Your name is not yet on the list. I’m telling you this now because it is not fair not to let you know about the Howard Foundation option once you have graduated to functioning woman. But you’re still too young to marry.”
    “In this state I can marry at twelve. With your permission.”
    “You have my permission to marry at twelve. If you can manage it.”
    “Father, you’re impossible.”
    “No, merely improbable. He’ll be young but older than fifteen. He will be of good health and of good reputation. He will be of adequate education—”
    “He had better be able to speak French, or he won’t fit into this family.” The Thebes school system offered French and German; Edward had-picked French, then Audrey also, because both Father and Mother had studied French, and made a habit of shifting to French when they wanted to talk privately in front of us. Audrey and Edward established a precedent; we all followed. I started on French before I could take it in school; I did not like having words talked in front of me that I did not understand.
    This precedent affected my whole life—but, again, that’s another story.
    “You can teach him French—including that French kissing you asked me about. Now this faceless stranger who ruined our Nell—Can he kiss?”
    “Gorgeously!”
    “Good. Was he sweet to you, Maureen?”
    “Quite sweet. A bit timid but he’ll get over that, I think. Uh, Father, it wasn’t as much fun as I think it could be. And will be, next time.”
    “Or maybe the time after that. What you’re saying is that today’s trial run was not as satisfying as masturbation. Correct?”
    “Well, yes, that is what I meant. It was over too fast. He—Goodness, you know who drove me to Butler. Chuck. Charles Perkins. He’s sweet, cher papa , but…he knows less about it than I do.”
    “So I would expect. I taught you, and you were an apt student.”
    “Did you teach Audrey…before she got married?”
    “Your mother taught her.”
    “So? I suspect that you taught me more. Uh, was Audrey’s marriage sponsored by the Howard Foundation? Is that how she met Jerome?”
    “That is a question never asked, Maureen. It would be polite not even to speculate.”
    “Well, excuse my bare face!”
    “I won’t excuse your naked manners. I never discuss your private affairs with your siblings; you should not ask me about theirs.”
    I suddenly felt the curb bit. “I’m sorry, sir. This is all new to me.”
    “Yes. This young man—these young men—will all be acceptable prospects…or, if I don’t approve of one, I’ll tell you why and not permit him in my house. But in addition to everything else, each one will have four living grandparents.”
    “What’s special about that? I not only have four living grandparents but also eight living great-grandparents. Have I not?”
    “Yes. Although Grampaw McFee is a waste of space. If he had died at ninety-five he would have been better off. But that is what this is all about, dear daughter; Ira Howard wanted his fortune used to extend human life. The Foundation trustees have chosen to treat it as if it were a stock breeding problem. Do you recall the papers on Loafer, and the reason I paid a high price for him? Or the papers on Clytemnestra? You have long life in your ancestry, Maureen, all branches. If you marry a young man on the list, your children will have long life in all their branches.”
    Father turned in his seat and looked me in the eye. “But nobody—nobody!—is asking you to do anything. If you authorize me to submit your name—not today but let’s say next year—it simply means that you will have six or eight or ten or more additional suitors to choose from, instead of