“Good for you, Caddy!” exclaimed Floyd Austin. “If that didn’t have a vaguely familiar ring about it, I should say you’d made an epigram.”
“Well, let’s say it all the same,” said Flo Carrington; “he may never come any nearer to one.”
“I don’t want to,” returned Oram. “Stevenson says, ‘There’s nothing so disenchanting as attainment,’ and that’s a delightful principle to work on. I hope to goodness I shall always fail just as I’m about to attain.”
“What nonsense!” cried Patty. “Then if you ever ask a lovely girl to marry you, you’ll be secretly hoping she’ll say ‘no!’”
“My word! but Americans are clever!” said Mr. Oram, bowing to her; “but for the sake of my argument, I must even subscribe to that.”
“Oh, pshaw, Caddy!” said Mr. Homer, “don’t worry over it. You know you’re a younger son, and very few girls would marry you anyway.”
“Very few would be enough,” observed Cadwalader, quickly and Floyd Austin immediately chimed in:
“Having neatly vanquished his opponent, the younger son chuckled softly to himself.”
Then as Lady Kitty came, and took Mr. Homer away, the little group broke up and somehow Patty found herself talking to Floyd Austin.
“Say some more of those funny things,” she demanded; “I never heard any one do that before.”