“If it made you forget your own affairs, it would be priceless.”
“Look here, Victoria,” cried Mr. Crewe, uncrossing his knees, “joking's all very well, but I haven't time for it to-day. And I'm in a serious mood. I've told you what I want, and now that I've got to go in a few minutes, I'll come to the point. I don't suppose a man could pay a woman a higher compliment than to say that his proposal was the result of some years of thought and study.”
Here Victoria laughed outright, but grew serious again at once.
“Unless he proposed to her the day he met her. That would be a real compliment.”
“The man,” said Mr. Crewe, impatiently, “would be a fool.”
“Or else a person of extreme discernment,” said Victoria. “And love is lenient with fools. By the way, Humphrey, it has just occurred to me that there's one quality which some people think necessary in a wife, which you didn't mention.”
“What's that?”
“Love,” said Victoria.
“Love, of course,” he agreed; “I took that for granted.”
“I supposed you did,” said Victoria, meekly.