"How delightful it is," said Katie, "to see such perfect modesty! Mr. Rivers, you are almost too diffident to live!"
"Oh, but really I mean that a girl like Miss Talbot, with her wealth, and ancient family, and social standing, and all that, might have the pick of all the best fellows in the country."
"That stands to reason; and so you imply that when such a lady chose you, you—"
"Ah, now, Miss Westlotorn, I didn't," said Harry. "I'm not so infernally conceited as all that, you know."
"But hadn't she promised in the boat?"
"In the boat! Well, yes—"
"Of course: then why did she have to choose you again?"
"Oh, well—in the boat it was an informal sort of thing. But never mind. She promised to marry me, and I went back to Barcelona. We then corresponded for about a year."
"How awfully dreary!" sighed Katie. "I do so detest letter-writing! If I had to write letters, I would break the engagement."
"Well, it's a bother, of course," said Harry; "but, after all, a letter is the only substitute one can have for the absent one."