In April 1939 two 24-year-olds, Heather Jenner and Mary Oliver, set up a marriage bureau in Bond Street. Their intended clients were the thousands of lonely single men stuck out in India, Africa and other outposts of Empire, who saved up their leave to come to England and find a wife. After war broke out, in September 1939, fear, loneliness and desolation caused single people all over Great Britain to flock to the Bureau.

Clients were interviewed, paid a modest registration fee, and were matched according to their requirements: almost always someone of their own class, background and religion, honest, reliable and not penniless. Basic priorities were somewhere to live, enough money, food, furniture, a job. Clients were practical: Must be a good cook, able to make jam, dress poultry and rabbits. Must reside Yorkshire. Or Preferably good looks, golden hair and blue eyes. If not available, any decent type will do.

The interviewer asked questions: Would you meet an unmarried mother? Or a widow with children? Someone responsible for elderly parents, or other encumbrances? Would you let your wife work? Do you want to have children? Some women refused to meet a man with a war wound, or a divorcee (unless he was the plaintiff – so not his fault), or a bald man.

The Bureau sent to a woman a letter briefly describing a possible man. If she agreed, the Bureau wrote to the man, and the couple arranged to meet. If the meeting was unsuccessful, each client informed the Bureau, and another introduction was sent. When a marriage resulted, clients paid a second, After Marriage Fee. If dubious behaviour was reported to the Bureau, the client was removed from the books.

Thousands of marriages resulted, partly because clients' expectations were low. Today they are far higher: I require a woman who is slim and elegant, warm and gregarious, with a sense of humour as quirky as my own, a streak of dominance and a sense of adventure. It is important to my career that I can be proud to be seen with her.

At the click of a mouse, everyone now has access to a constant flow of potential partners. The anonymity of the internet allows people to post what they like about themselves, true or false. Among honest people with a genuine desire to find a permanent partner lurk fraudsters and worse. And there is nobody to monitor what goes on, no sympathetic and sharp-eyed interviewer to intervene when there are problems. It is a gamble, which can and does lead to happiness, but it is a lonely and sometimes perilous route, with no friendly guide.

There are no more dedicated marriage bureaux apart from a specialist few, e.g for Asian or Jewish people. Many dating/introduction agencies faded away as internet dating took off, but there are still some (affiliated to the Association of British Introduction Agencies) of long-standing, plus new, often incredibly expensive operations. The field is wide open.

Penrose's new book Marriages Are Made in Bond Street: True Stories from a 1940s Marriage Bureau is published by Macmillan and is available from Amazon.