"Would you like to go abroad?" he questioned.
"I would much prefer to stay here if I could; but you see we cannot always have what we would like best."
"No, that is true," he said slowly and meditatively. "The things we would like best are often not for us. I don't know why it should be so. Some people seem to get all they desire. There is my Cousin Sam, for instance."
"He is one of the lucky ones, you say?"
"It seems so from my point of view. Did he tell you when he first saw you?"
"No."
"He would not like to remind you. It was the day of the sale at Hillside. He was greatly—that is, of course he could not help noticing you. Since then he has seen you lots of times. A fortunate fellow is Sam."
"Perhaps he does not think so."
"Oh, I fancy he does. I don't see how he can help it. He lives in a beautiful old house. It's years since I saw it, but it remains in my memory a pleasant picture. His wife will have a rare time of it."
"How do you know he does not intend to follow your example and remain a bachelor?"