"Have you anything in the way of a proposition to make?" asked
Black-Tie.

Miss De Ormond looked reflectively at the neat toe of one of her dull
kid-pumps.

"I had a proposal made to me," she said. "If the proposal sticks it cuts
out the proposition. Let's have that settled first."

"Well, as far as--" began Blue-Tie.

"Excuse me, cousin," interrupted Black-Tie, "if you don't mind my
cutting in." And then he turned, with a good-natured air, toward the
lady.

"Now, let's recapitulate a bit," he said cheerfully. "All three of us,
besides other mutual acquaintances, have been out on a good many larks
together."

"I'm afraid I'll have to call the birds by another name," said Miss De
Ormond.

"All right," responded Black-Tie, with unimpaired cheerfulness; "suppose
we say 'squabs' when we talk about the 'proposal' and 'larks' when we
discuss the 'proposition.' You have a quick mind, Miss De Ormond. Two
months ago some half-dozen of us went in a motor-car for a day's run
into the country. We stopped at a road-house for dinner. My cousin
proposed marriage to you then and there. He was influenced to do so, of
course, by the beauty and charm which no one can deny that you possess."