"Oh, you should say a rare quality," amended Rose, with a smile that ended in a sigh.
"Well, it's something that can't be too rare." A fading spring lily dropped on the doorstep by one of the children received an impatient kick, as though he would dismiss the present conversation in a similar manner. "Rose," he said, "I wish you would ask Wanda to our sailing-party to-morrow."
"Why, Edward, I might as well ask a blue-bird. She will come if it happens to suit her inclination at the moment, otherwise not."
"Don't you think a regular invitation would please her?"
"Oh, dear, no; it isn't as though she were a civilized creature. You don't seem to grasp the fact that she's only a wild thing of the woods."
A pause ensued. "There are other facts," resumed Edward a little unsteadily, "that I have grasped. One is that she is the most beautiful woman I ever saw; another—that I love her."
Rose put up her hands as though to save her eyes from some hideous sight, "It can't be true!" she exclaimed.
"My dear little sister, it is true; and your inability to accept it is not a very flattering tribute to my good taste."
"It can't be true," repeated Rose. "You must mean that you have merely taken a fancy to her."
"Well, it is a fancy that has grown to enormous proportions. I cannot live without her. If that is fancy it has all the strength of conviction."