"What shall I do?" he asked again, wringing his hands and tearing his hair.
"Cheer up," was the reply, spoken in a soft voice and by a sweet-faced girl. It was Angelina.
"And you have come to me in my distress—after I have treated you so badly?" he said, with a flush of shame colouring his hitherto pale face.
"No, darling," returned the golden-haired maiden, looking into his brown eyes with optics of an azure hue. "Do not say that you have behaved badly to me. You wrong yourself; you do, indeed."
"Have I not deserted you?" he asked in a tone of bitter sorrow.
"But only after you had written me letters upon which I could base an action for breach of promise," murmured the forgiving girl.
"But do you propose to proceed upon them?" he asked earnestly.
"Yes, my own. To quote that touching song you so frequently sang to me in the gilded days of the golden past, 'it will be the best for you and best for me.' I shall certainly ask for substantial damages."
"And is there no way to avoid this crushing, this final disaster?" asked the young man, in deep distress.
"Dearest, you know that I have studied the law. Well, I would propose that you should carry out your contract. I have here the form which requires but the registrar's signature to make us man and wife. What do you say to the matter being settled to-morrow?"