"Is he coming to see you?" demanded Miss Finch, who in her ignorance of the ways of the great world assumed that so spontaneous a tribute must be merely preliminary to an ardent courtship.
"He had an idea of taking my education in hand." Agatha briefly outlined Warren's philanthropic scheme in behalf of Hephzibah Diggs, and Miss Finch turned all colors as she listened. Now at last she knew that the romantic novels with which she solaced her leisure hours had not misled her. There really was such a thing as love at first sight.
"Agatha!" she ventured tremulously, "you could marry that man to-morrow if you liked. It's as plain as the nose on your face that he's dead in love with you."
"If it were as plain as the nose on his face, that would settle it. But as nothing would induce me to marry him to-morrow or any other day, the state of his feelings doesn't matter."
"But I'm sure, Agatha," remonstrated Miss Finch, "that you wouldn't want to break his heart."
Agatha's reply was a paroxysm of laughter that left her gasping and tearful. "Oh, Fritz," she half sobbed, as she wiped her eyes, "I'm so glad you didn't die when you were little."
Miss Finch was on her dignity. "I know you're making fun of me, Agatha. But it's no laughing matter to wreck a man's life."
Again Agatha yielded to mirth. "You've seen Mr. Warren and yet you say that."
"I can't see why you take that tone, Agatha. I'm sure he's a nice young man and so lively."