"And am I—really—the 'nicest girl you know,' that you came so straight to me with your proposal?" she asked.
"I thought so an hour ago," I responded, growing gloomy again. "I've intended for two years to ask you sometime, though I didn't think it would be so soon. I supposed you knew what was on my mind, and it never occurred to me that, instead of accepting my offer, you would play the schoolma'am with me. But let it go now. I believe I shall live through it, after all. That cursed insomnia leaves a man ready for the blues on the slightest provocation. The sooner I get out of this part of the world the better."
She asked if I had decided where to go, and I told her I had not. I thought the best thing was to get on the sea as soon as I could and keep out of sight of land for awhile.
"I don't think you ought to go alone," she said, thoughtfully.
"Perhaps you would undertake to chaperone me," I suggested, mischievously.
"No. It would be too great a responsibility. But, seriously, you should have some one. You are not in a condition to make a long journey alone."
I felt that as well as she. But of all my friends I could think of no one to fill the bill, and I told her so.
"Tom would go, if he could," she said. "He would lose a year in his classes, though, which is a serious matter. Can you not hire some capable young man, who would act as an assistant and companion combined?"
If I was sure of anything it was that I wanted nothing of that kind. A servant was all right, and there were lots of fellows who would make good travelling companions, but a man who could combine the two qualities would be unbearable.
"There's another alternative you haven't thought of," I remarked, catching at an idea. "What would you say to a typewriter?"