“Not at all,� said Skelton, “I called to pay my respects to the ladies,� and, with a bow, he walked out, and they saw him cross the lawn and follow the bridge to the summerhouse.
“There, now, Mr. Shapleigh!� exclaimed Mrs. Shapleigh triumphantly, “wasn’t I a long-headed woman, to have that summerhouse built eighteen years ago for Richard Skelton and Sylvia to make love in?�
“It’s the first time they’ve ever been in it since it was built, ma’am.�
“Well, everything has to have a beginning, Mr. Shapleigh, though, of course, I know he never can marry my poor, beautiful girl.�
“Yes, he can, Mrs. Shapleigh. If he chooses to pay several hundred thousand dollars for her, he can.�
“Mr. Shapleigh, you talk very foolishly. What man alive, do you think, would pay that much to marry any woman? Though I will say, if any woman is worth it, Sylvia is the one, and she’s not half as good-looking as I was at her age, either.�
“True, madam. But if one had half a million dollars to buy a wife with, he might have a good, long hunt before he found a woman like you, my own love.�
“Now, Mr. Shapleigh, are you joking?�
“I can’t hear you, my sweet,� responded Mr. Shapleigh cheerfully. “Every day I seem to get deafer and deafer, particularly to your voice.�
“I notice you can hear some things well enough. When I say, ‘Mr. Shapleigh, we’ve got wild ducks for dinner to-day,’ you can hear as well as I can. And when I say, ‘Mr. Shapleigh, the moths have made ravages in the carpets,’ you always think I’m talking about cabbages in the garden, or something a thousand miles off. You ought to be treated for your deafness and have it cured.�