t for me.

But first, as man to man, I want to ask you a question. Having found,
by an extraordinary turn of luck, the perfect secretary, would you
consider me sane if I let her go? Of course you would not. I asked
myself the same question yesterday and received the same answer.

So I have asked her to marry me.

I put it that way because I know you like to have things broken to you.
And now, having heard all your objections (oh, yes, I can hear them.
Distance is only an idea) I shall proceed to answer them.--

No. It is not unwise to marry a young girl whom I scarcely know. Why
man! That is part of the game. Think of the boredom of having to live
with some one you know? Someone in whose house of life you need expect
no odd corners, no unlooked for turnings, no steps up, or down, no
windows with a view? Only a madman would face such monotony.

No. It is not unfair to the other party. The other party has a mind and
is quite capable of making it up. She will not marry me unless she
jolly well wants to. Far more than most people, I think, she has the
gift of decision. Neither is it as if what I have to offer her were not
bona fide. Take me on my merits and I'm not a bad chap. My life may
have been tame but it has been clean. (Only don't tell Aunt Caroline).
I have a sufficiency of money. What I promise, I shall perform. And as
for ancestors--Well, I refer everyone to Aunt Caroline for ancestors.
If Miss Desire marries me she will receive all that is in the bond and
any little frills which I may be able to slip in. (There will not be
many frills, though, for my lady is proud.)

Yes. Aunt Caroline will make a fuss. I trust you will bear up under it
for my sake. I think it will be well for her to learn of my marriage
sufficiently long before our return to insure resignation, at least,
upon our arrival. After the storm the calm, and although, with my dear
Aunt, the calm is almost the more devastating, I trust you will acquit
yourself with fortitude.

And now we come to the only valid objection, which you have,
strong-mindedly, left until the last--my prospective father-in-law! He
is a very objectionable old party, and I do not mind your saying so.
But one simply can't have everything. And Bainbridge is a long way from
Vancouver. Also, as a husband I can take precedence, and, by George,
I'll do it! So you see your objection is really an extra inducement. It
is only by marrying the daughter of Dr. Farr that I can protect