They walked up and down the long colonnade, jesting and merry, Tom unable to think or talk of anything long except his new bliss, saying all sorts of absurd things in spite of Elsie's expostulations.
"I shall go in at once, if you don't behave more sensibly," she said, snatching her hand from him, as he tried to kiss it. "What would Grant think if he happened to come down."
"Oh, dear," sighed Tom; "how long before you will let me tell him; this having to steal one's happiness is dreadful."
"Oh, you selfish, insatiable monster! not an hour ago you promised to be perfectly content if I would only say I might care for you sometimes, and there now you go!"
"I am a selfish wretch," said Tom, struck with remorse.
"And selfishness is such a dreadful failing," rejoined Elsie.
"It is, I know it."
"In a man."
"Oh!" exclaimed Tom, a little astonished at the close of her sentence.
"Yes," continued Elsie; "It's a woman's privilege."