"More than words can express, my darling; are you going to make me happy by the promise?"
"I am quite willing to please you, sir, when it is possible for me to do so," she answers quite gently; "you have my promise."
"Bonnibel, you are an angel!" exclaims the enraptured colonel. He draws his arm around her an instant and bends to kiss her lips. "A thousand thanks for your generous self-sacrifice!"
"You need not thank me, sir—it is not much of a sacrifice," she answers, dryly.
She has drawn out her programme of the dances for the evening and is hurriedly consulting it.
"I find that I am engaged for one more waltz," she says, carelessly. "I suppose you do not object to my dancing that? It would be embarrassing to excuse myself."
"Your partner is—whom?" he inquires, with a slight frown.
Again she consults her programme.
"It is Mr. Penn."
"Cannot you excuse yourself? Say you are tired? Your head aches? Women know how to invent suitable excuses always—do they not?"