ong walk."

"No," she said, "I am not tired. And I have been thinking a lot about
the things you said to me."

He was not a conceited man, and he was aware that it was the things
which he had said to her which had set her mind to work, not any
personal fascination. She was quaint and charming, and he was glad that
she had come. He had been lonely since his sister left. And his
loneliness had fear back of it.

It was because of this conversation with Cope that Becky ended her
letter to Randy with the following paragraph:

"Mr. Cope has a sister, Louise. She thinks that people ought to
marry because they like the same things. She thinks that if two
people care for the same furniture and the same religion and the
same things to eat, that life will be lovely. She couldn't love a
man enough to live on a desert island with him, because she adores
New York. Of course, there is something in that, and if it is so,
you and I ought to be very happy, Randy. We like old houses and the
Virginia hills, and lots of books, and fireplaces--and dogs and
horses and hot biscuits and fried chicken. It sounds awfully funny
to put it that way, doesn't it, and practical? But perhaps Louise
Cope is right, and one isn't likely, of course, to have the desert
island test. Do you _really_ think that anybody could be happy on a
desert island, Randy?"

Randy replied promptly.

"If you were in love with me, Becky, you wouldn't be asking
questions. You would believe that we could be blissful on a desert
island. I believe it. It may not be true, yet I feel that a hut on
a mountain top would be heaven for me if you were in it, Becky. In
a way Cope's sister is right. The chances for happiness are
greatest with those who have similar tastes, but not fried chicken
tastes or identical religious opinions. These do not mean so much,
but it would mean a great deal that we think alike about honesty
and uprightness and truth and courage----

"And now, Becky, I might as well say it straight from the shoulder.
I haven't the least right in the world to let you feel that you are
engaged to me. I shall never marry you unless you love me--unless
you love me so much that you would have the illusion of happiness
with me on a desert island.

"I have no right to let you tie yourself to me. The whole thing is
artificial an