“Mr. Selden, I like you very much, but please do not ask me to love you. It is not possible.”
“Why not? Is it because I am not handsome like Bob Gunther?” said he, with a painful sneer. “Believe me, I shall be a devoted, loving husband; none can love you more passionately and devotedly.”
“I do not doubt it. But I cannot. Please don't ask me, and don't hate me.”
“Mr. Robert Gunther,” said the tall waiter, and Bob's broad brow and good-natured smile shone at the door.
The delightful sojourn at Newport was now over. The Mechlin family were again at their town residence in New York City. Elvira and Mercedes, as it was their habit, were that evening having their cosy chat before going to bed.
“So Clarence will be here next month,” Elvira remarked.
“Yes, he says he will spend Christmas with us, and if we'll let him, he will go with us to Washington.”
“That will be delightful. I suppose Gunther and your other numerous slaves will disappear when he arrives.”
“They ought not, for I have never encouraged any one any more than if I had been married already.”
“But you are not, my darling, and that makes a very great difference with young gentlemen.”