sensible in future."

"You mean that you won't marry me?" I asked.

"Don't talk of that: let us pretend we were in fun--as of course we
were--and let me thank you for a very agreeable afternoon."

I declare she looked so bewitching as she spoke that I wished she had
thought me in earnest and accepted me. It was real good in her, giving
a fellow a second chance when she might have snapped him up directly.
I think girls ought to give a man two chances, but they seldom do.
Many a poor soul repents the moment the words are spoken, but he can't
help himself. Generally, when 'tis done 'tis done.

She made a motion to rise: I could not permit her to go without an
explanation. She had been so generous, and she was so beautiful, that
I began to desire quite earnestly that she would be my wife, and that
we could settle down at The Beauties together: she would like the
sorrel at any rate. Perhaps Fortune had sent her to me this very
afternoon, and I ought not to let the opportunity slip, but ask her
seriously before she left. Of course she would accept me if she knew I
was in earnest. She was too delicate to take advantage of a
mistake--mighty few girls so particular. The more I entertained the
idea, the more I liked it, so I resolved to speak. I fancied that she
was a little cool in her manner: possibly she thought I ought not have
jested on such a subject, but I would make it all right now. I was
sitting on a stone a little lower than she. I leaned forward and
placed my arm on the rock and round her--just near enough to keep her
there, you know. Then I spoke: "I want to beg your pardon, Miss
Blanche. You are offended, but I did not mean to annoy you: I esteem