ffer was of the faintest and most futile kind,
and so it will be understood, at the beginning, that these two young
persons had a very good understanding with each other.

"You seem surprised to see me," he began.

"Well, Walter, I understood that you left last time with some
energetically expressed resolutions never to darken our doors again."

"Well, you see, my dear, I am sometimes a little hasty; and, in fact,
the weather is so dark nowadays, anyhow, that a little extra darkness
does not amount to much, and so I thought I would take the risk of
darkening them once more."

"But I also understood that my father made you promise, or that you
promised voluntarily, not to see me again without his permission?"

"Not voluntarily. Far from it. Under compulsion, I assure you. But I
didn't come to see you at all. That's where you are mistaken. The
seeing you is merely an accident, which I have done my best to avoid.
Fact! The girl said, 'Won't you walk into the drawing-room,' and
naturally I did so. Never expected to find you here. I thought I saw a
young lady at the window as I came up, but I got such a momentary
glimpse that I might have been mistaken."

"Then I will leave you and not interrupt----"

"Not at all. Now I beg of you not to leave on my account, Alma. You
know I would not put you to any trouble for the world."

"You are very kind, I am sure, Mr. Brown."

"I am indeed, Miss Temple. All my friends admit that. But now that you
are here--by the way, I came to see Mr. Temple. Is he at home?"

"I am expecting him every moment."

"Oh, well, I'm disappointed; but I guess I will bear up for awhile--
until he comes, you know."

"I thought your last interview with him was not so pleasant that you
would so soon seek another."

"The fact is, Alma, we both lost our tempers a bit, and no good ever
comes of that. You can't conduct business in a heat, you know."

"Oh, then the asking of his daughter's hand was business--a mere
business proposition, was it?"

"Well, I confess he put it that way--very strongly, too. Of course,
with me there would have been pleasure mixed with it if he had--but he
didn't. See here, Alma--tell me frankly (of course he talked with you
about it) what objection he has to me anyhow."

"I suppose you consider yourself such a desirable young man that it
astonishes you greatly that any person should have any possible
objection to you?"

"Oh, come now, Alma; don't hit a fellow when he's