"Why don't you do it now—Billy?" asked the widow, with a challenging glance from beneath her lashes.
"I can't," grumbled the bachelor, "while you are blowing that chiffon veil."
The widow took the two ends of the offensive thing and tied them deliberately under her chin.
"Some day," continued the bachelor, as he swung the canoe shoreward with a vigorous dip of the paddle, "I'm going to show you who's master. I'm going to marry you and then—"
"Be sorry!" laughed the widow.
"Of course," assented the bachelor, "but I'd be sorrier—if I didn't."