“It is, and you know it,” declared Calderwell. “And that settles him. Now you can see, perhaps, why none of these men—will marry.”
It was a long minute before Billy spoke.
“Not a bit of it. I don't see it at all,” she declared with roguish merriment. “Moreover, I think that some day, some one of them—will marry, Sir Doubtful!”
Calderwell threw a quick glance into her eyes. Evidently something he saw there sent a swift shadow to his own. He waited a moment, then asked abruptly:
“Billy, WON'T you marry me?”
Billy frowned, though her eyes still laughed.
“Hugh, I told you not to ask me that again,” she demurred.
“And I told you not to ask impossibilities of me,” he retorted imperturbably. “Billy, won't you, now—seriously?”
“Seriously, no, Hugh. Please don't let us go all over that again when we've done it so many times.”
“No, let's don't,” agreed the man, cheerfully. “And we don't have to, either, if you'll only say 'yes,' now right away, without any more fuss.”