"That would not be strange. There are a great many men who want wives."
"Suppose I were to tell you that some one wanted you for a wife?"
"I have been told that before."
June's sweet, honest eyes were looking straight at Guy as he spoke.
Her fingers were neither toying with diamond rings nor an ivory fan, but her shapely white arms were folded across her waist in a very matter-of-fact way. She was quite sure as to what Guy had to say, and she had made up her mind to answer frankly any question that he might ask. She had not the least idea of growing faint or falling in tears on his bosom, as she had heard of women doing. That plan did not suit her at all.
"You have been told that before?" Guy repeated.
"Yes."
"And suppose I were to tell you that I was the man who wanted you, would you say yes?"
"No."
"June, June," he said, looking very serious, "June, darling, you do not mean that."
"There, Guy, do not grow sentimental; of course I mean it."
"And would you really say no?"
"I said I would not say yes."
"Well, what does that mean but no?"
"It means that I would not readily give my consent."
"Why not?"
"I would not wish to."
Guy looked perplexed.
"June," he said, speaking suddenly, "I never thought you were a coquette."
"Your opinion is a correct one regarding that."
"Then what do you think of me?"
"I think," said June, surveying his countenance, "I think you are very nice."
Guy laughed in spite of his disappointment.
"Then why will you not marry me?" he asked.
"I did not say that I would not."
"But you did not say that you would. Don't you think you could love me, June?"
"I rather think I could," she answered, coolly.
"Oh, June, please have a little more reason; if you can love me, why will you not say you will marry me?"
"Guy," she said, in a voice grown low almost to sadness, "I shall never marry any man until I have first studied his character."
"Are you so afraid, then that you might find me a villain?"
"Not at all. I know you to be very far from a villain, but I do not know whether your tastes accord with my own. You would not be willing to have me allude to your faults, and you might have those which would be very annoying to me and I might have those which would be extremely vexatious to you."
"I cannot see that you have a fault, my dear June, and if you loved me truly you would not see my faults."
"I do not say that I do see many faults, and that is what I am studying your character for--to find them."
"Why do you wish to find them?"
"To either help you to correct or see if I can have patience to bear with them without complaining."
"How practical you are, June. Indeed, one would think that if there ever had been any romance in your nature that it had all died away and left but the ashes of a ruined hope. You speak more like a disappointed maiden lady of thirty-five than a young girl only fit for Cupid's wiles."
"I speak from observation, and I tell you truly, Guy, that if there were more practical and less romantic people in the world there would be more happiness."
"But people marry for love; do they not?"
"Perhaps they do."
"Then is it not right that they should overlook the faults of each other?"
"That is just the point. They fancy themselves deeply in love--so much so that they do not stop to consider whether the object of their choice has faults or not. After marriage comes reflection, and after the romance has worn off they have not the patience to bear with the faults that, until then, have been kept from the surface. It is not long since I spoke upon this very subject to a gentleman who asked me a similar question. Yesterday I received a letter from him saying that he should soon repeat the request, although I gave him a decided answer in the negative."
"Did you care for him?"
"I certainly did not, and I told him so."
"He is very impertinent," said Guy, rather impatiently.
"No, he is very blind, and I have no doubt that the least turn of fortune would bring my faults to light."
"If you know of any great faults I have I would willingly correct them if you would show me what they are."
"I fancy that you have a habit to which I am greatly opposed, though I have never seen you indulge in it."
"What is it?"
"The use of tobacco."
"Oh, I occasionally smoke a cigar."
"Why have you never done so in my presence?"