Susan: What do you mean?
Rose: Don’t blame me if I am a little human. Have you never met a man, Aunt Susan, who pleased you as no other man had ever pleased you before?
Susan: Perhaps I have; but it was mighty long ago.
Rose: Call me foolish if you will; I, too, have met such a man.
Susan: You! Where?
Rose: You won’t be cross if I confide in you? Besides, it’s not likely that I shall meet my Romeo again?—for he was a Romeo, Aunt Susan.
Susan: There are no Romeos nowadays.
Rose: Oh, yes, there are—in trousers. Now, let me tell you my experience with him. It was not a bit romantic. Last Monday, as you remember, I was shopping in New York. To-day is Friday. (With mock gravity.) An eternity from then till now.... Well, as I was rushing through a quiet side street, in haste to catch a car, suddenly I slipped and fell. My parasol went in one direction, my fan in another, my purse in still another, and three parcels I was carrying in three others. To make matters worse, I had sprained my ankle slightly, and was ready to cry with pain and mortification. Imagine the situation, Aunt Susan. There I sat in a heap on the pavement, surrounded by my possessions.
Susan (grimly): I hope you didn’t sit there long?
Rose: How unsympathetic you are!... No, I did not sit there long. For a second I was paralyzed. Afterward, as I prepared to rise with proper dignity, I heard a man’s voice—a particularly agreeable man’s voice—close at my side. It said: “Permit me to assist you, madam.” Before I could reply, the owner of the voice lifted me to my feet. Oh, he did his part gallantly! I was, of course, too confused to thank him at once. But he did not stop for thanks. He simply picked up my purse, my parasol, and my parcels, and after placing them in my hands, and inquiring very gently whether I was hurt, lifted his hat courteously and passed on. Only for a single—a single instant, Aunt Susan, our eyes met.