Her coaxing arms were round his neck, her bright eyes beaming into his, and he sighed:
“Girls are always dead set on weddings! I don’t see why! I think them great bores myself!”
“Then why don’t you get yours over and be done with it?” persisted the girl.
“Oh, I am not in any hurry to lose my bachelor freedom, sis; I fancy Rose would henpeck me dreadfully,” yawning.
“She would not, I’m sure—that is if you behave yourself, sir! Of course you would have to give up some of your bad habits if you were a married man—flirting, for instance—and—and—drinking! You are a little too fond of the winecup, aren’t you, now?”
“Yes—if you say so,” he replied nonchalantly, taking his lecture coolly, and adding: “I wonder if Rose is going to write out a list of musts and must nots for me to sign on the wedding day; do you know?”
“Oh, nonsense! Go and ask her if you want to know! She’s in the library now, half crying because a girl asked her if her wedding would be soon, otherwise she wanted her to make one of a house party at her home this fall. Don’t you see how embarrassing the uncertainty is, Charley?”
“Yes, I see. We must have an understanding about it,” he replied, with a sudden gravity that emboldened her to add:
“Only yesterday Rosalind refused a proposal that was exceptional, in every way, and when she told me of it she half sighed: ‘He’s very nice, and if I had not been engaged to Charley, I might have said yes.’”
“It isn’t too late to call him back. I’ll tell her she may do so!” he exclaimed eagerly.