"Now you are calling me singular as well as captious."

"The girl who is singular," returned he, in an endeavor to turn the
talk by means of an epigram which only made matters worse for him, "the
girl who is singular runs great risk of never becoming plural."

Ethel laughed merrily, her glee arising chiefly from a sense of the
chance he was giving her to work up one of those playful mock quarrels
which amused her and so thoroughly teased her admirer.

"Upon my word, Mr. Rangely," she said, assuming an air of indignant
surprise, "is it your idea of making yourself agreeable to tell an
unfortunate girl that she is destined to be an old maid? I could stand
being one well enough, but to be told that I've got to be is by no
means pleasant."

He knew she was playing with him, but he could not on that account meet
her on her own ground. He endeavored to protest.

"You are trying to make me quarrel."

"Make you quarrel?" she echoed. "I like that! Of course, though, to be
so full of faults that you can't help abusing me is one way of making
you quarrel."

"How you do twist things around!" exclaimed he, beginning to be
thoroughly vexed.

She pursed up her lips and regarded him with an expression more