“Absolutely refused to do it. Said he was the finest young man he knew, and only wondered that he cared for her society.”
“Well, I declare! And Florence?”
“Would have had to treat him just like anybody else, if he hadn’t heard all about it, and stopped calling of his own accord. Now, every time her father sees him, he asks why he hasn’t been to the house for so long!”
“How unreasonable men are to be sure—Florence’s father, in particular. Why, he actually refuses to speak to Dickey Doolittle, whose third cousin married a British baronet, and who has all his garments made in London!” said the president.
“I know—he says it makes no difference to him where Dickey gets his clothes; so long as he pays for them promptly,” said the blue-eyed girl.
“Which is the last thing Dickey would even think of doing,” said the girl with the Roman nose.
“Oh, well, he may think of it,” said the girl with the classic profile. “I suppose that even Dickey thinks sometimes.”
“You have been reading the comic papers again,” said the president, severely. “Whenever I hear old jokes I—”
“No, dear,” said the girl with the classic profile, sweetly, “but I had a long talk with your husband only yesterday.”
“Dear me,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin, rousing herself from a reverie, “I’m afraid I’ve not been paying attention to the discussion. I can’t even remember whether we decided that women should be legislators or not.”