"I'm in earnest. Don't talk bosh."
"No, I won't. I'll be sober. What is it, Ned? You needn't mind saying out what you would like. We're such old chums."
"Just so," assented Ned. "That's what I've been feeling—that I might ask your help, and that you wouldn't mind—you'd be sure to understand."
It did not sound precisely like the preliminary to an offer of marriage; but she replied cheerfully—
"Of course I shall. We always did understand one another—even in the days when I wore short frocks, and when you—"
Ned was in no mood for a plunge into schoolboy reminiscences.
"Yes, yes—that's all right," he said hastily.
"Well, you may as well tell me what it is that I've got to do for you."
Ned hesitated still. "You see," he at length said, "you see—I've wanted it so long! And the longer I wait, the more I'm set on it. That's the way one does, I suppose. And the time has come now when I needn't put off any longer."
Magda's hopes again went up. "Yes—I see!" She vaguely agreed.