“No man ever knows until he has inquired. Why do you not ask her?”
“Why, June,” he said, looking up suddenly, “I would be almost afraid to marry any woman.”
“I do not believe she could be a wicked woman if she were to try,” said June.
“It does not seem so, but we cannot tell; but I have not the least idea that Miss Elsworth would marry me if I wished her to.”
“I do not see how she could help it,” said June, ardently.
“Every one does not admire me as you do, June,” said Scott, with a smile.
“It is because they do not know you, then,” June replied.
Miss Elsworth was seated in her cozy parlor when a visitor was announced.
“Ah, Mr. Wilmer,” she said, with a smile that went straight to his heart, “I am glad to see you. I have a little business to transact that takes a lawyer’s head to accomplish, though I am not partial to that class of men.”
“I am sorry,” he said, as he took the chair she offered him. He had not intended to fall in love with her, and he had said to himself that he would not allow it; but, alas for his intentions. He really had never known what love was until now. He spoke to her of it, and her great dreamy eyes looked into his own with a look of pitiful sadness, as she said: