The girls retorted at once "that in their eyes such a course was detestable, that they could never even respect, much less like, any one who professed such sentiments."
Dabbler, who had rather hesitated between his partner's daughters, and who, in his own mind, had decided that he had but to come, to see and to conquer, was a man used to arrive at determinations at once. From that instant he made up his mind that neither of the Misses Sleek would suitably fill the vacant place at the head of his dining-table.
As the two men went to town on the Monday by the fast morning train, Sleek, as he unfolded his Times, turned with a smile to his partner.
"Well, Dab," he said, "which is the lucky one?"
"They won't 'ave me, my boy," replied the other philosophically.
"And why not, in the name of common sense, pray?" replied his partner in some astonishment.
"Because I'm not a Nero," returned Dabbler with a sigh.
"What?" said Sleek.
"We will not continue this conversation, Mr. Sleek," said Dabbler solemnly, and both gentlemen buried themselves in their newspapers.
