She folded the note and thrust it into its envelope. "I never believed," she said emphatically, "in proposals by letter."
"I am sorry," faltered miserable Pease.
"And what you say," continued Beth, holding the note out for him to take, "is not my idea of the essentials of a proposal."
He came and received the letter, but could answer nothing.
"I think," Beth set forth reflectively, "that just two things are necessary to a proposal: a statement and a question. A man need only say: 'I love you. Will you marry me?' Just seven words—no more." She folded her hands in her lap, looked at him innocently, and waited.
Gazing at her, fascinated, slowly he grew red. An idea found lodgment, worked deeper, penetrated to the springs of action. He crushed the letter in his hand. "I love you!" he cried. "Will you marry me?"
She dimpled into smiles. "Yes," said little Beth.