I was calm enough when he at last decided to go, and instead of running on excitedly, as I had been vaguely conscious of doing part of the evening, I really conversed. Indeed, to speak modestly, I think I was rather interesting. I had forgotten what he had called for. So had he--apparently.
All I hoped was that he did not intend to bore me with frequent repetitions of this call. I had better use for my evenings than such waste of time as chatting with him. I cast about me for some suitable excuse to shut off future inflictions, and at last hit upon one that I thought might answer.
"I suppose I must sacrifice myself for a while," I said cheerfully; "I have had a deal of business swoop down upon me, and in order to dispatch it, must shut myself up for a time, and forego the joys of society."
Instantly his old embarrassment came back upon him, as a small boy's enemy--supposed to be vanquished--darts around the corner, and renews the attack.
He started to go; came back; returned to the door; again came back; colored vividly--looked at me imploringly. And as I looked at him my anger, my coldness--all vanished, and I exclaimed: "Randolph Chance, why don't you say it!"
"Some things are awfully hard to say. I can write---- Oh Constance! you might have mercy on me!"
"Well," I said, laughing--I could almost see the light upon my face--"I suppose you want me to marry you."
"You can't get away now!" he cried, a second later.
The walls heard a much-smothered voice-"I don't want to."
Now this little scene, I suppose, is what makes Randolph always say I proposed to him. This remark, oft repeated, sometimes under very trying circumstances, is his one disagreeableness. But I let it pass without comment, for I realize it is the spout to the kettle, and I am thankful that the steam has so safe and harmless an outlet. If I were to boil him too hard, he would probably overflow, and dim the fire; but I am very cautious, and love still burns with a clear, bright flame.