"You think I'm all theory, don't you?" he said, nervously. "You shrug those flippant shoulders of yours when I tell you what course an American who honors his country should pursue. Now I'll prove to you whether or not I'm sincere. I am deliberately going to marry the Countess of Semois; and this afternoon I shall take the necessary measures to fall in love with her. That," he added, excitedly, "can be accomplished if she is the dark-haired girl we've seen driving."
"Now, I don't suppose you really intend to do such a——"
"Yes, I do! It sounds preposterous, but it's logical. I'm going to practice what I expect to spend my life in preaching; that's all. Not that I want to marry just now—I don't; it's inconvenient. I don't want to fall in love, I don't want to marry, I don't want to have a dozen children," he said, irritably; "but I'm going to, Smith! I'm going to, for the sake of my country. Pro patria et gloria!"
"Right away?"
"What rot you talk, sometimes! But I'm ready to make my words mean something; I'm ready to marry the Countess of Semois. There is no possible room for doubt; any man can marry any woman he wants to; that is my absolute conviction. Anyhow, I shall ask her."
"As soon as you meet her?"
"Certainly not. I expect to take several days about it——"
"Why employ several days in sweet dissembling?"
"Confound it, I'm not going to dissemble! I'm going to let her know that I admire her the moment I meet her. I'm going to tell her about my theory of scientific marriages. If she is sensible—if she is the woman America requires—if she is the dark-haired girl—she'll understand." He turned squarely on Smith: "As for you, if you were the sort of American that you ought to be you would pick out some ornamental and wholesome young Belgian aristocrat and marry her in the shortest time that decency permits! That's what you'd do if you had a scintilla of patriotism in your lazy make-up!"