"Nothin'," said Caleb, suddenly looking embarrassed. "That is, nothin' that's any o' my business."
"If 'twas mine, you needn't hesitate to mention it. You and I ought to be fair and frank with each other."
"Well," said Caleb, counting with a stubby forefinger the inches on a yardstick, "I was only wonderin'—that is, I want to say that you're a good deal of a man, an' one that I'm satisfied it's safe to tie to, an' I'm mighty glad you're in your uncle's place, but—for the land's sake, how'd you come to git her?"
Philip laughed heartily, and replied:—
"As most men get wives. I asked her to marry me. First, of course, I put my best foot forward, for a long time, and kept it there."
"Of course. But didn't the other fellers try to cut you out?"
"Quite likely, for most men have eyes."
"Wa'n't any of 'em millionnaires?"
"Probably not, though I never inquired. As she herself has told you, Mrs. Somerton was a saleswoman. Millionnaires do their courting in their own set, where saleswomen can't afford to be."