“In the aggregate!” he laughed; “but quite the equal of our own differentiated. If Croyden were a marrying man—with sufficient income for two—I should give him about six months, at the outside.”
“And how much would you give one with sufficient for two—yourself, for instance?”
“Just long enough to choose the girl—and convince her of the propriety of the choice.”
“And do you expect to join Geoffrey, soon?” meaningly.
“As soon as I can get through here,—probably in a day or two.”
“Then, we may look for the new Mrs. Macloud in time for the holidays, I presume.—Sort of a Christmas gift?”
“About then—if I can pick among so many, and she ratifies the pick.” 182
“You haven’t, yet, chosen?”
“No!—there are so many I didn’t have time to more than look them over. When I go back, I’ll round them up, cut out the most likely, and try to tie and brand her.”
“Colin!” cried Miss Cavendish. “One would think, from your talk, that Geoffrey was in a cowboy camp, with waitresses for society.”