“Not quite,” said Paul, trying not to laugh.
“I'm as tall as Mr. Smith,” resumed Mr. Benton, in a tone which warned Paul that this was a forbidden subject. “But you don't ask me who she is.”
“I didn't know as you would be willing to tell.”
“I shan't tell any one but you. It's Miss Hawkins,—firm of Hawkins & Brewer. That is, her father belongs to the firm, not she. And Paul,” here he clutched our hero's arm convulsively, “I've made a declaration of my love, and—and——”
“Well?”
“She has answered my letter.”
“Has she?” asked Paul with some curiosity, “What did she say?”
“She has written me to be under her window this evening.”
“Why under her window? why didn't she write you to call?”
“Probably she will, but it's more romantic to say, 'be under my window.'”