“Ah, my limbs are all right; it is my head you complain of!” answered poor Harry, pitifully. “I believe my heart is all right, too, only that doesn’t seem to matter to you clever women. I suppose that stooping fellow can talk by the yard.”
“Mr. Cooke can ride and drive, too,” said Annie, quietly. “Men who talk well can do other things, too, very often.”
“He can stick on a Park hack, or drive a dog-cart a couple of miles without coming to grief, I dare say,” returned Harry, in a louder voice. “But do you think he could break in an animal that had thrown every groom in the stable, or ride as straight as I can across country, or train a racer?”
“I don’t suppose he is as much at home in a stable as you are, certainly,” said Annie, coldly, “or that any of the actors I know are so well able to beat a groom at his own work. I must do you so much justice.”
“Thank you. It is very clever of you to snub me like that; and I dare say you think, if I had any proper pride, I ought to go away after you have so plainly let me know how my vulgar stable-talk bores you. But I sha’n’t,” continued Harry, doggedly. “I was foolish to let you go away from me, and I was foolish to come after you; but, now I am here, I mean to stop.” And he flung himself down into a chair.
“You mean to stay here!”
“Yes; and, when I go away, I mean to take you with me.”
“Oh, indeed! Against my will?”
“I hope not—not if what you said to me a little while ago is true, Annie;” and he leaned forward on his elbows, with such wistful earnestness in his face and voice that his wife was forced to listen. “You say you are not fond of anybody else, you say nobody else has been making love to you, and you tell me I’m so handsome that I need not be afraid of anybody else. Well, if all that is true, and I’m such a nice, good-looking fellow, and you are so anxious to cling to my arms and caress me and introduce me to your friends, why on earth, as soon as I turn up, do you want to be rid of me again?”
“I don’t want to be rid of you. But I am not going to be treated like a child, as if I could not be trusted alone.”