choice, you know. It isn't so hard for them to find, somebody that
suits. I suppose I should be accepted by any girl I might ask.
Frankly, now," I said, wishing to give her a poser, "wouldn't you
accept me?"

"Frankly," she replied, taking my own tone, "I would not."

"And why not?" I asked.

"There would be too many young ladies made unhappy through losing
you," she answered banteringly.

"But you know I should not care for that: I can't marry them all."

"You told me you thought it your duty to please everybody."

"Come, now, think of it, and tell the real truth: you know if I marry
it would have to be but one girl."

"You might go to Utah."

"You won't answer. Silence gives consent, don't it?" I said in a tone
of triumph.

"Do you really want me to answer your question?" she asked, looking at
me queerly.

"By Jove!" I thought, "it's coming now. I've pushed it too far--never
thought what I was doing: she will certainly accept me, and I cannot
retract." It took me but a moment to see my danger and to make up my