“Oh, no, dear; nothing of the kind. I—I merely told them that he was on his way to ask you to marry him, and—”
“Very thoughtful it was of you, dear. I only wish I could ask you to be bridesmaid for your pains; but Clarence has somehow gotten an idea that you are not a friend of his. There was no one else to oppose the match, and I—I doubt if he’d have asked me quite as soon if you hadn’t; so I shall try to forgive you, in time, for the things you have said about him.”
The girl with the dimple in her chin gasped, but her only reply, was: “I really don’t know what the other members of the club will say. They—”
“The club. I am so glad you mentioned it. There was a meeting to-day, was there not? I was just writing Evelyn a letter when you came in, saying—”
“That you want us to meet twice a week after this! How nice; that is just—”
“No, dear; it was a letter of resignation I was writing. Dear Clarence has such a horror of intellectual women, that I—”
“But, Dorothy, you know when you founded the club, you said the membership would be for life, and—”
“Emily Marshmallow, I never said anything of the kind! And, if I did, only a person of your colossal selfishness would expect me to waste my time on a mere club when I want to devote eighteen hours a day to the selection of my trousseau, and the other six to Clarence! And, if you want to know my real opinion of the club, I consider it the greatest bore among my social duties!”
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