'Of course he isn't,' replied Henry vehemently, 'do you think a chap is ever deceived by anything like that? He hates to be pounced on, so to speak. Do you know, my dear, that one of the things that first attracted you to me was your complete indifference to myself.'
'Indeed, Henry?' I said, with lowered eyes and modest mien.
'Yes. If you remember I was editing the Gazette at the time I first met you, and although you, as one of my contributors, often came up to the office to see me, we remained for a long time on a purely business footing.'
It is true Henry was an unconscionable time in coming to the point. 'Entirely business-like,' I acquiesced.
'When you called to see me to discuss a gross misstatement in one of your articles (which you refused to acknowledge until I had sent for you to put the matter clearly before you), you did not conduct yourself like so many other girls who came to discuss their work with me. You did not attempt to engage in a mild flirtation, make eyes, bend over me as I glanced through the manuscript——'
'Oh, bad, bad girls,' I murmured. 'Do women behave like that with you, Henry?'
'They did, my dear. I am speaking of the time before I was married.'
I smiled. What a comfort it is to have a Scotsman for a husband! He is so solid and reliable regarding the opposite sex.
'You, however, employed none of these wiles,' he continued, 'and were almost studiously cold and business-like. For a long time I thought I should never interest you in myself—in fact, I know I took you very much by surprise when I made you an offer, didn't I?'
'I was rather surprised, Henry,' I said, smiling at his retreating form as he went out of the room. Then I turned to Marion, who happened to be present. 'Why, of course,' I commented, 'that makes it all the more serious about William.'