"Simple," repeated Miss Knowles with some natural surprise. "Did you say simple?"
"Simple and jolly and unaffected. As true and as bright as the stars. And I'm going to marry her—"
"Now this," Miss Knowles interjected, "is where the difference comes. You are to sit quite still and listen to me because a thing like this—however long and carefully one had thought it out—is difficult in the saying. So, I stand here before you where I can look at you; for four months are long; and where you may, when I have quite finished, kiss my hand again; for again four months are long. And I begin thus: Jimmie, you are going to be married—"
"I told you first," cried Jimmie.
"But I knew it first," she countered, "to a woman who has learned to love you during the past three months, but who could not do it more utterly, more perfectly, if she had practiced through all the years that you and I have been friends."
"So she says," Jimmie interrupted with sudden heat. "So she says. God bless her!"
"And, ah, how she is fond of you. 'Fond' is a darling of a word. It keeps just enough of its old 'foolish' meaning to be human. Proud of you, glad of you, fond of you—I think that this is, perhaps, the time for you to kiss my hand."
"You're a darling," he said as he obeyed. "But what I can't understand—"
"It's not your turn. You may talk after I finish if I leave anything for you to say. See, I go on: You are going to marry—"
"The most beautiful woman in the world."