“I know you did, slow-poke, but that is not your fault. You would have proposed to me yesterday, only I thought best not to disturb you until you were a little stronger. This evening, however, I made up my mind to settle the matter, and so I——”
“But suppose I hadn't proposed to you, after all?”
“Then, John, I should have proposed to you, I fear.”
“But you were running an awful risk, sending that telegram to Neddy Jerome.”
She took one large red ear in each little hand and shook his head lovingly. “Silly,” she whispered, “don't be a goose. I knew you loved me; I would have known it, even if Neddy Jerome hadn't told me so. So I played a safe game all the way through, and oh, dear Caliph John, I'm so happy I could cry.”
“God bless my mildewed soul,” John Stuart Webster murmured helplessly. The entire matter was quite beyond his comprehension!