I sat resignedly, with my hands in my lap.
“Are you engaged to Lieutenant Hawthorne?”
“No!” said I, energetically.
“Are you fonder of him than of me?”
“No, I’m not.”
Sol’s thermometer of happiness up to a hundred in the shade at least.
“Are you fonder of me than of him, Nelly?” in a very tender voice.
“No.”
Thermometer down below zero again.
“Do you mean to say that we are exactly equal in your eyes?”