ur powers of conversation."

"Nonsense!" cried the bachelor, "a man in love can say more fool
things----"

The widow put down her spoon emphatically.

"A man in love," she contradicted, "can't talk at all? It's not the
things he says, but the things he isn't able to say; the things that
choke right up in his throat----"

"I've had that!" interrupted the bachelor.

"Had--what?"

"The 'love-lump' in the throat."

"And did you ever go up stairs to light the gas and turn on the water
instead; or walk three blocks in the wrong direction without knowing it;
or hunt ten minutes for your shoes and then discover it was your collar
button or your hat that you had lost?"

"Or add a column of figures and get a poem for the answer; or break your
neck running to the office and then have to sit down and think what you
came down early for; or begin a business letter 'Dearest Smith' and drop
it in the box without a stamp, or read your paper upside down, or----"

"You've got it!" cried the widow.

"I know it," sighed the bachelor, "dreadfully!"

"The idea, I mean," said the widow, blushing. "Those are the real proofs
of love."

"But," protested the bachelor, "they aren't impressive. How are you
going to let the girl know----"

"A girl always knows," declared the widow.

"Are you going to say, 'Araminta, darling, I put on odd socks this
morning and salted my coffee and sugared my chop.' Accept this as a
proof?"

"No, no, no," said the widow, laughing, "of course not! But when you
arrive at her house half an hour before the time and appear at odd and
embarrassing moments without a rational excuse and get mixed on your
dates and look at her as if she were the moon or a ghost, and might
disappear at any moment, and sit for hours gazing into space and
moistening your lips in the hope that you will think of something to
say----"

"She knows that she's got you!" groaned the bachelor.

"Oh, she may not," declared the widow, cheerfully. "She may not know
anything. She may be in love herself."

"That's it!" protested the bachelor, "knowing you're in love is only
half the trouble. How are you going to know when a girl has reached the
love stage? How are you going to know that she is not just dangling you,
or marrying you for your money? They're so clever and wise and
coquettish and----"

"When a girl is in love," said the widow, "she ceases being clever and
wise and coquettish. She becomes mooney and silent and begins to n