"It would spoil my entire life fearing I shouldn't survive you," says Miss Chesney, who, in spite of her nervousness, or because of it, is longing to laugh.
"You will, you need not be afraid of that."
"It sounds dazzling," murmurs Lilian, "more especially when you give me your word you will die first; but still I think it downright shabby you don't offer me the whole ten."
"So I will!"—eagerly—"if——"
"Nonsense, Archie," hastily: "don't be absurd. Cannot you see I am only in jest? I am not going to marry any one, as I told you before. Come now,"—anxiously,—"don't look so dismal. You know I am very, very fond of you, but after all one cannot marry every one one is fond of."
"I suppose not," gloomily.
"Then do try to look a little pleasanter. They will all notice your depression when we return to them."
"I don't care," with increasing gloom.
"But I do. Archie, look here, dear,"—taking the high and moral tone,—"do you think it is right of you to go on like this, just as if——"
"I don't care a hang what is right, or what is wrong," says Mr. Chesney, with considerable vehemence. "I only know you are the only woman I ever really cared for, and you won't have me. Nothing else is of the slightest consequence."