"What an array of recommendations! what evidence have you that I have committed this egregious folly?"
"Your quibblings—if nothing else. Deign to enlighten me as to motive—the act being granted. Why did you discard him?"
"Because I did not love him, Charley."
"That is to the point! now—why didn't you love him?"
"Because I could not."
"Not so good. Why couldn't you?"
"Impertinent! is love made to order? As with a soda fount, have you but to twist a screw in the heart, and it bubbles up for any 'unexceptionable,' who prays for it in a flowery speech?"
"Jumping the question again! What is your ideal husband like?"
"He must be my master!" said Ida. "Mr. Germaine is kind and excellent—intelligent and gentlemanly; but my will would never yield to his. He would say—'Shall I?' and 'will you?' in matters where his interests, no less than mine, were involved. My ideal says, gently, but decidedly—'I think'—'I will?'"
"So our friend may ascribe his ill-success to his lack of Blue-Beardishness! Oh, woman! thy name is caprice!"