"What a very pretty speech. I suppose I ought to feel flattered. For a novice—professing no experience—I think I may say you have accomplished the task charmingly," was Mary's laughing reply.
"Be serious, Mary, there's a dear girl; for it's a serious matter to me."
"Oh well, Mr. Longface, then I'll try. To speak candidly, I've not thought about the matter, and don't want to. So there, you have an answer."
"But not a final answer, I hope?" he added.
"Yes; why not?" she naïvely asked.
"I'd rather you'd say you'll think it over, if what I have said has caused you surprise."
"Surprise? I should think it has! Do you suppose for a moment I was waiting for you to come and tell me what you have?"
"No, Mary," he replied, feeling a little abashed at the thought that he had committed himself by his answer.
"Well then, sir, you had better be content with the answer I have given."
"If you give me credit for sincerity, do you think it possible I can be content with such a reply?" he asked, gazing steadfastly into her half-averted eyes, at the same time attempting to take her hand.