Morris was a stylish-looking man, and the spinster received his attentions very favorably. She knew very little about him except that he was in some mysterious business about which he did not speak definitely, except that it required him to travel constantly. Matters progressed until they became engaged. At this point, rather reversing the usual order of things, Miss Marden gave her suitor the ring which he had now lost.
"If we don't marry," she said cautiously, "I shall expect you to give it back."
"Certainly, my dear Josephine," said Morris, "but I shall hold you to your promise."
"You might see some girl younger and fair," said Hiss Marden coyly.
"How could that be?" said Morris with mock ardor, as he bent over her hand and kissed it with secret facial contortions. "Do you doubt my love?"
"I try not to, Ferdinand, but I am no longer in my first youth. I shudder to say it I am twenty nine."
"You were two years older last week," thought Morris.
"I—I don't feel so old," said the spinster, "but I am afraid it is a fact."
"I don't believe you will ever be forty again," thought Morris. "By the way, Josephine, have you thought of that investment I spoke to you about? I can get a hundred shares of mining stock for you, at five dollars a share—the inside price—while to the general public it is only sold at ten."
"It may be as you say, Ferdinand, but my aunt lost money in mining stocks, and I shall hardly dare to venture."