"Surely," thought Robertson to himself, "young ladies now-a-days are remarkably forward." "Well, then, Miss Mansel," speaking aloud, "proceed at once to the point. I am all attention."
Selina still hesitated—"Really," said she, "I know not how to express myself."
"No doubt of it," he replied; "young ladies, I suppose, are not accustomed to being very explicit on these occasions. However, I can understand—'A word to the wise,' you know: but the truth is, for my own part, I have not quite made up my mind. You are sensible that our acquaintance is of very recent date: a wife is not a bill to be accepted at sight You know the proverb—'Marry in haste and repent at leisure.' However, I think you may draw on me at sixty days. And now that I have acknowledged the receipt of your addresses"——
Selina interrupted him with vehemence—"Mr. Robertson, what are you talking about? You are certainly not in your senses. You are mistaken, I tell you—it is no such thing."
"Come, Miss Mansel," said Robertson, "do not fly from your offer: it is too late for what they call coquetry—actions speak louder than words. If I must be plain, why so much embarrassment whenever we meet? To say nothing of the flower you gave me—and that little verse, which speaks volumes"——
"Speaks nonsense!" cried Selina: "Is it possible you can be so absurd as to suppose"——Then bursting into tears of vexation, she exclaimed—"Oh that I had a cent!"
"A cent!" said Robertson, much surprised. "Is it possible you are crying for a cent?"
"Yes, I am," answered Selina; "just now, that is all I want on earth!"
"Well, then," said Robertson, taking one out of his pocket, "you shall cry for it no longer: here's one for you."
"This won't do—this won't do!" sobbed Selina.