"In that case, fair lady mine, the sooner you marry me, the better; for even with so competent a ruler as yourself, it will take long and close application on my part to learn the role of submissive husband. You see, my position of schoolmaster has weakened my natural talent for meekness and submission, so that at present these qualities are far from being in perfect condition."
"You needn't tell me that," rejoined Betsy, with a demure smile and nodding her head sagely. "Cupid hasn't so blindfolded me but that I can still see a wee bit out of the corner of my eye—well enough, at least, to perceive that my lover has several imperfections in addition to a lack of meekness."
"That, my dear, isn't the fault of Cupid's bandages, but it is due to your always having held me at a distance," he answered placidly, drawing her nearer to him. "Seen at close range, these little peculiarities of mine, which you have labeled defects, will turn out to be budding virtues of the finest quality."
"Ah, then, most perfect and approved good master, you must give me back my pledge. I could stand a few faults and minor vices in my future lord; but such an array of excellencies appals me. I wed you not, Sir Paragon," she said, looking him full in the face and then dropping him a mocking little courtesy.
"'By my troth and holidame,' I could have better spared a better Betty!" Abner exclaimed with mock fervor. "No, no, sweet mistress mine, rather than resign this dimpled hand of thine, I'll begin at once to uproot all my promising little sprouts of virtue, and plant in their stead an assortment of fine, robust misdemeanors, for which, in truth, the soil is well adapted."
"Very well, then," she said with an air of resignation, "I foresee that I shall have to grow a few additional faults myself, to compete with you."
"And I don't think, my dearest, that you'll have much difficulty in doing so," was his audacious rejoinder, as he pinched her cheek. "Natural aptitude counts for a great deal, you know."
"Methinks, my lord, too much happiness hath weakened thy brain; what nonsense thou dost chatter," and she laughed with joyous abandon.
"Oh, anybody can talk sense, but it takes a heap o' sense to talk nonsense sensibly," he said suavely, with a fine air of self-complacency. "Until to-day I did not know I had it in me to be so brilliant a conversationalist. Happiness is bringing out all my latent abilities. Ah, Betty, sweetest, dearest, most bewitching of girls," he added, fervently, "how happy you have made me!"
They were now seated on a fallen tree, he indulging in a blissful sense of happiness realized, she sitting quiet and somewhat pensive. Presently he asked: "Of what are you thinking? Your brown eyes are filled with something that is almost sadness. Have you any regrets, any unfilled wish? I haven't—except that November might have come sooner."