twenty-two--nobody thinks of
settling down nowadays before she's twenty-five at the very earliest.
I don't know a single girl in this town that has--among my friends,
anyway. That's three years off, and you CAN'T expect me to be engaged
for three years."

"No." said Lorne, "engaged six months, married the rest of the time. Or
the periods might run concurrently if you preferred--I shouldn't mind."

"An engaged girl has the very worst time. She gets hardly any attention,
and as to dances--well, it's a good thing for her if the person she's
engaged to CAN dance," she added, teasingly.

Lorne coloured. "You said I was improving, Dora," he said, and then
laughed at the childish claim. "But that isn't really a thing that
counts, is it? If our lives only keep step it won't matter much about
the 'Washington Post.' And so far as attention goes, you'll get it as
long as you live, you little princess. Besides, isn't it better to wear
the love of one man than the admiration of half a dozen?"

"And be teased and worried half out of your life by everybody you meet?
Now, Lorne, you're getting serious and sentimental, and you know I hate
that. It isn't any good either--Mother always used to say it made me
more stubborn to appeal to me. Horrid nature to have, isn't it?"

Lorne's hand went to his waistcoat pocket and came back with a tiny
packet. "It's come, Dora--by this morning's English mail."

Her eyes sparkled, and then rested with guarded excitement upon the
little case. "Oh, Lorne!"

She said nothing more, but watched intently while he found the spring,
and disclosed the ring within. Then she drew a long breath. "Lorne
Murchison, what a lovely one!"

"Doesn't it look," said he, "just a little serious and sentimental?"

"But SUCH good style, too," he declared, bending over it. "And quite
new--I haven't seen anything a bit like it. I do love a design when it's
graceful. Solitaires are so old-fashioned."

He kept his eyes upon her face, feeding upon the delight in it.
Exultation rose up in him: he knew the primitive guile of man,
indifferent to such things, alluring with them the other creature. He
did not stop to condone her weakness; rather he seized it in ecstasy;
it was all part of the glad scheme to help the lover. He turned the
diamonds so that they flashed and flashed again before her. Then,
trusting his happy instinct, he sought for her hand. But she held that
back. "I want to SEE it," she declared, and he was obl