cigar together in our sitting-room or on the piazza opposite, and I
pass an hour or two of the day or the evening with the daughter. I
am more and more struck by the beauty, modesty, and intelligence of
Miss Daw.

You asked me why I do not fall in love with her. I will be frank,
Jack; I have thought of that. She is young, rich, accomplished,
uniting in herself more attractions, mental and personal, than I
can recall in any girl of my acquaintance; but she lacks the
something that would be necessary to inspire in me that kind of
interest. Possessing this unknown quality, a woman neither
beautiful nor wealthy nor very young could bring me to her feet.
But not Miss Daw. If we were shipwrecked together on an uninhabited
island--let me suggest a tropical island, for it costs no more to
be picturesque--I would build her a bamboo hut, I would fetch her
bread-fruit and cocoanuts, I would fry yams for her, I would lure
the ingenuous turtle and make her nourishing soups, but I wouldn't
make love to her--not under eighteen months. I would like to have
her for a sister, that I might shield her and counsel her, and
spend half my income on old threadlace and camel's-hair shawls. (We
are off the island now.) If such were not my feeling, there would
still be an obstacle to my loving Miss Daw. A greater misfortune
could scarcely befall me than to love her. Flemming, I am about to
make a revelation that will astonish you. I may be all wrong in my
premises and consequently in my conclusions; but you shall judge.

That night when I returned to my room after the croquet party at
the Daw's, and was thinking over the trivial events of the evening,
I was suddenly impressed by the air of eager attention with which
Miss Daw had followed my account of your accident. I think I