"Then alter it, and call me——"
"Teddy? I think I like that best; and perhaps I shall have it all to myself."
"I am afraid not," laughing. "All the fellows in the regiment christened me 'Teddy' before I had been in a week."
"Did they? Well, never mind; it only shows what good taste they had. The name just suits you, you are so fair and young, and handsome," says Molly, patting his cheek with considerable condescension. "Now, one thing more before we go in to receive our scolding: you are not to make love to me again—not even to mention the word—until a whole week has passed: promise."
"I could not."
"You must."
"Well, then, it will be a pie-crust promise."
"No, I forbid you to break it. I can endure a little of it now and again," says Molly, with intense seriousness, "but to be made love to always, every day, would kill me."
CHAPTER VII.