“Don’t lose your temper,” said Sol. “Sit down again, and talk the matter over like a reasonable Christian. I am in love with her too.”
“What the deuce is the fellow driving at?” thought Jack, as he resumed his seat, still simmering after his recent explosion.
“So the long and the short of it is that we are both in love with her,” continued Sol, emphasizing his remarks with his bony forefinger.
“What then?” said the Lieutenant, showing some symptoms of a relapse. “I suppose that the best man will win, and that the young lady is quite able to choose for herself. You don’t expect me to stand out of the race just because you happen to want the prize, do you?”
“That’s just it,” cried Sol. “One of us will have to stand out. You’ve hit the right idea there. You see, Nelly—Miss Montague, I mean—is, as far as I can see, rather fonder of you than of me, but still fond enough of me not to wish to grieve me by a positive refusal.”
“Honesty compels me to state,” said Jack, in a more conciliatory voice than he had made use of hitherto, “that Nelly—Miss Montague, I mean—is rather fonder of you than of me; but still, as you say, fond enough of me not to prefer my rival openly in my presence.”
“I don’t think you’re right,” said the student. “In fact, I know you are not; for she told me as much with her own lips. However, what you say makes it easier for us to come to an understanding. It is quite evident that as long as we show ourselves to be equally fond of her, neither of us can have the slightest hope of winning her.”
“There’s some sense in that,” said the Lieutenant, reflectively; “but what do you propose?”
“I propose that one of us stand out, to use your own expression. There is no alternative.”
“But who is to stand out?” asked Jack.