“You are, indeed, a bundle of contradictions. Why have you so sedulously concealed the existence of your fine voice, which the majority of girls would have been eager to exhibit?”
“It was not lack of vanity, but excess, that prompted me to keep you in ignorance, until I could astonish you by its 194 perfection. You have anticipated me only by a few days, and I intended singing for you next week.”
“It is not prudent for you to venture so far from home, especially at this hour.”
“We paupers are not so fastidious as our lucky superiors, and cannot afford timid airs, and affectation of extreme nervousness. Having no escort, and expecting none, I walk alone in any direction I choose, with what fearlessness and contentment I find myself able to command.”
“It will be dark before you can reach the public road.”
“No, sir; there is a young moon swinging above the tree-tops, to light me on my lonesome ramble; and I come here so often that even the rabbits and whippoorwills know me. Where is Miss Muriel?”
“Waiting in the buggy, on the beach. I must go back to her.”
“Yes. Pray do not delay an instant, or she will imagine that some dire calamity has befallen her knight, who, in hunting a siren, encountered Scylla or Charybdis. Good evening, Dr. Grey.”
“I am unwilling to leave you here so unprotected. Come and ride with Muriel, and I will walk beside the buggy. My horse is so gentle that a child can guide him.”
“Thank you. Not for a ten-acre lot in Mohammed’s Paradise would I mar Miss Muriel’s happiness, or punish myself by a tête-à-tête with her. It would be positively ‘discourteous’ in me to accept your proposal; and, moreover, I abhor division,—tout ou rien.”