“Ah! I’m not married either. Not for want of chances though. Somehow there’s no one I fancy. Listen, Margot,—let’s go to Nice this afternoon, if you can get away from your place. Say it’s your cousin. Do come. We’ll have a good time.”
After supper that night as Hugh sat pouring over his permanencies, the girl looked up from her sewing.
“You will be surprised to hear I had an offer of marriage this afternoon.”
He gazed at her abstractedly. “No, I’m not surprised. You’re really awfully sweet, you know. I expect you’ve had many. Well, I hope he’s a fine chap.”
“Yes, he is. He has a big business and makes lots of money.”
“Good. That’s the great thing,—money! You know, I think this system I’m working on will make lots of money. Already it’s made a fortune on paper. Well, when’s it coming off?”
“What?”
“The marriage, of course.”
“Oh, I’ve not accepted him. I don’t want to marry. I’m too happy as I am.”
“What! Refuse such a good offer! Are you crazy?”