“It’s about Julianna,” said I.
“Yes,” said he, “about her. She is eighteen. Her birthday is scarcely a week away. I suppose she will fall in love sometime?”
“Of course,” I answered. “Women are not cast in her mould to be old maids.”
“Isn’t it funny?” he said. “I just began to think of it yesterday. I never realized. I thought we had at least ten years more before there would be any chance. They are women before one can turn around! It is surprising.”
“It’s terrible,” I added.
“Yes,” said he, “it’s terrible! Because if any man won her, then I would have to tell—”
He stopped there and shut his two fists.
“Tell the truth!” I exclaimed.
“Yes,” said he. “ I ’d have to tell him. Could I let him be cheated?”
“Cheated!” I cried. “No man is good enough for her, that’s what I think!”