a young lady in her position, of
having a real man to look after her interests----

"All very true. But I don't know as I'm exactly hard up for a husband,"
retorted Miss Million, with a little simper and a blush that I knew was
called up by the memory of the blue, black-lashed eyes of a certain
Irish scamp and scaramouch who ought to be put in the stocks at Charing
Cross as an example to all nice girls of the kind of young man whom it
is desirable to avoid and to snub. Miss Million added: "I don't know
that I couldn't get married any time I wanted to."

"Sure thing," agreed her cousin gravely. "But the question is, how are
you going to know which man's just hunting you for the sake of Uncle
Sam's dollars? Making love to the girl, with his eyes on the pork
factory?"

"Well, I must say I think that comes well from you!" exclaimed Miss
Million. "You to talk about people wanting to marry me for my money,
when you've just said yourself that you've set your heart on those
dollars of Uncle Sam's for your old aeroplane machine! You're a nice
one!"

"I'm sincere," said the young American, in a voice that no one could
doubt. "I want the dollars. But I wouldn't have suggested marrying
them--if I hadn't liked the little girl that went with them. I told you
right away when I came into this room, Cousin Nellie, that I think
you're a little peach. As I said, I like your pretty little frank face
and the cunning way you fix yourself up. I like your honesty. No beating
about the bush."

He paused a second or so, and then went on.

"'You must be barmy,' says you. It appeared that way to you, and you
said it. That's my own point of view. If you mean a thing, say it out.
You do. I like that. I revere that. And in a charming little girl it's
rare," said the American simply. "I like your voice----"

Here I suppressed a gasp, just in time. He liked Million's voice! He
liked that appalling Cockney accent that has sounded so much more
ear-piercing and nerve-rasping since it has been associated with the
clothes that--well, ought to have such a very much prettier sort of tone
coming out of them!

He liked it. Oh, he must be in love at first sight--at first sound!

"Plenty of these young English girls talk as if it sprained them over
each syllable. You're brisk and peart and alive," he told her earnestly.
"I think you've a lovely way of talking."

Miss Million was taking it all in, as a girl does take in compliments,
whether they are