“A little too worldly to suit me,” commented the friend. “Still, it might be better if some of the girls who marry hastily had just a little of such worldliness. There would be fewer helpless and wretched women and children.”
“That’s just it,” returned Harry. “She knows what it means, and that two thousand of Tom Nelson’s looks awful big to her. If I had as much I’d invest it for her outright, and that would settle it.”
“Doesn’t want it to spend, as I understand it?” queried the friend.
“Oh, no—just to know that she has something in case anything happens.”
“Why don’t you try life insurance?” asked the friend.
It took Harry a moment or two to grasp this. Then his face lighted up.
“By thunder! I never thought of that!” he cried.
“That’s the trouble with lots of men,” remarked the friend dryly. “Marriage is considered a dual arrangement when it should be a triple—man, woman and life insurance. That’s the only really safe combination. The thoughtful lover will see that the life insurance agent and the minister are interviewed about the same time.”
“Where did you learn all that?” asked the astonished Harry.
“Oh, it’s not original with me,” was the reply. “I heard Dave Murray talk about insurance once. He’s an enthusiast. He claims that the best possible wedding gift is a paid-up life insurance policy, and I guess he’s right. It would be a mighty appropriate gift from the groom’s father to the bride—a blame sight better than a check or a diamond necklace. A paid-up policy for five thousand would look just as big as a five-thousand-dollar check, and it wouldn’t cost nearly as much—unless the old man plans to sneak back the check before it can be cashed. And what a lot of good it might do at a time when the need may be the greatest! If the bride is the one to be considered in selecting a wedding gift, as I understand to be the case, what better than this?”