"Oh, Peter, I can't think."
"Will you let me fix it? I must go West and sell out and pull up, you know, preparatory to never going again. We can fix the day now or we can fix it when I come back."
"Oh, when you come back," she entreated so eagerly that Peter said:
"Charlotte, let me ask you one thing. Were you ever sorry you wrote me that taking-back letter?"
"Why, Peter, you know how I am. When I have decided something I have undecided it. That's all."
From gay he turned to grave. "I ought to have thought. I haven't been fair; I haven't played the game. I ought to have given you another chance; and I haven't, have I?"
"Why, I suppose a girl can always change," Charlotte said, suggestively.
"Yes, but you won't always be a girl. I've never asked you if you wanted to change. I ask you now. Do you?"
"How can I tell? Hadn't we better let it go as it is? Only not hurry about—about—marrying?"
"Certainly not hurry about marrying. I've wondered that a girl could make up her mind to marry any given man. Haven't you ever wished that you had not made up your mind about me?"