He pinks up a little at that. "I presume you would call them old
maids," says he. "They are about my age, and--er--the truth is, they
are rather large. But really they're quite nice,--refined, cultured,
all that sort of thing."

"Specially which one?" says I, givin' him the wink.

"Now, now!" says he, shakin' his head. "You're as bad as Aunt Emma.
Besides, they're her guests. She asks them over quite often. You see,
they own almost as much property around here as she does, and--well,
common interests, you know."

"Sure that's all?" says I, noticin' Merry flushin' up more.

"Why, of course," says he. "That is--er--well, I suppose I may as well
admit that Aunt Emma thinks she is trying her hand at match-making.
Absurd, of course."

"Oh-ho!" says I. "Wants you to annex the adjoinin' real estate, does
she?"

"It--it isn't exactly that," says he. "I've no doubt she has decided
that either Pansy or Violet would make a good wife for me."

"Pansy and Violet!" says I. "Listens well."

"Perhaps their names are hardly appropriate; but they are nice,
sensible, rather attractive young women, both of them," insists Merry.

"Then why not?" says I. "What's the matter with the Hymen proposition?"