ill, John Henry Smith; I mean every word of it!

What does Carter do? He has not done a stroke of work in five years. He
says a man with an income of $100,000 a year has no right to work and
strive to increase it. I claim a man should do something to make a name
for himself, and leave a record of which his children and grand-children
will be proud. You watch me, John Henry Smith! I'll show you and Miss
Harding that I can do something beside play golf.

We have wandered from our subject. The question is this: what shall we
do in order to ascertain if Miss Harding entertains toward us any
sentiment stronger than friendship? Ask her, you say. Suppose _you_
ask her. No, my dear John Henry, that is not the proper step at this time.

I do not set myself up as an authority in matters of love, but I do hold
that no wise man ever proposed to a good and true woman without knowing
in advance that she would accept him. Love has its secret code, and
Nature gives the key to its discerning votaries. I have that key, John
Henry Smith.

One need not speak or write in order to send the first timid messages of
love; and by the same token the recipient need not even frown in order
to tenderly reject the proffered passion. There are as many words in
this unwritten and unspoken vocabulary of love as may be found in
lexicons. Did you know that, John Henry?

The man who fails to avail himself of this silent but eloquent language,
and who stupidly assaults a woman with an avowal of an alleged love,
deserves to be coldly rejected. It is as much of an insult or an
indiscretion as to walk unheralded and unbidden into a private room.
Never do it, John Henry!

If a man becomes convinced he loves a woman he should tell her by some
message in the code which both understand. He will know if she receives
it. It is not necessary that she answer, "yes." If she answer not at all
he has achieved a notable victory, but if she promptly signals a decided
"no" he has met with irreparable defeat. That settles it, my dear Smith.

A woman may refuse a man with words, and he be justified in declining to
accept the implied rejection, but there is no appeal from the silent
decision which leaps from the heart.

So long as no message comes back unopened keep on sending them. You are
justified in assuming that they have been read and are being
entertained. The time will come, John Henry, when you will get your
answer. If it is against you, accept it with the bes