"Then I am afraid I must promise, if you do so again, to go back and ride with Kitty all the rest of the way," said Dora, as, with heightened color and a decided pout, she drew her left-hand rein so sharply as to wheel Max to the other side of the road.
"Dora, I am afraid you are a little of a coquette, after all!" exclaimed the lover, gazing at her with admiration.
"Oh, no indeed, Mr. Brown! I wouldn't be for the world! I said just what I meant to you. I always do."
"But why, then, if you love me well enough to live with me as sister, child, or friend, can't you also live with me as wife?"
"Because, sir,—oh, no! I didn't mean sir,—because"—
"Frank, I told you to call me."
"Because, Frank, I don't love you that way."
The answer was so explicit, so unembarrassed, and so quiet, that, for the first time, Mr. Brown believed it.
"Not love me, Dora, when I love you so much!" exclaimed he in dismay.
"Not love you in a wife way, Frank, but a great deal in every other way. And then I don't think we should be happy together if we were married."