s 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.

"Well, now, to come to the point--" he began again.

But she interrupted him by glancing at the watch on her gown, and
rising.

"What's the matter?" he asked, with some annoyance.

"The fifteen minutes are up," she announced. "I cannot take the
responsibility of detaining you."

"We will put in tantalizing as another attractive quality," he laughed.
"I absolve you of all responsibility. Sit down."

"I believe you mentioned obedience," she answered, and sat down again at
the end of the bench, resting her chin on her gloved hand, and looking
at him. By this time her glances seemed to have gained a visibly
disturbing effect. He moved a little nearer to her, took off his hat
(which he had hitherto neglected to do), and thrust his hands abruptly
into his pockets--as much as to say that he would not be responsible for
their movements if they were less free.

"Hang it all, Victoria," he exclaimed, "I'm a practical man, and I
try to look at this, which is one of the serious things in life, in a
practical way."

"One of the serious things," she repeated, as though to herself.

"Yes," he said, "certainly."

"I merely asked to be sure of the weight you gave it. Go on."

"In a practical way, as I was saying. Long ago I suspected that you had
most of those qualities."

"I'm overwhelmed, Humphrey," she cried, with her eyes dancing. "But--do
you think I could cultivate the rest?"

"Oh, well," said Mr. Crewe, "I put it that way because no woman is
perfect, and I dislike superlatives."

"I should think superlatives would be very hard to live with," she
reflected. "But--dreadful thought!--suppose I should lack an essential?"

"What--for instance?"

"Love--for instance. But then you did not put it first. It was I who
mentioned it, and you who took it for granted."

"Affection seems to be a more sensible term for it," he said. "Affection
is the lasting and sensible thing. You mentioned a partnership, a