do except in their
own affairs. But the next minute I was sorry I'd spoken, for he proposed
again immediately. I might have known he would! "You see, your whole
family's bound to marry Americans, so I might as well be the one for
you," he said. "If you don't take me, Mrs. Main will produce a nephew of
hers. I know him--poisonous blighter--and he'll be shoved down your
throat, sure as fate. He's _some_ homelier than me, if possible."

I laughed. "Dear Tony! You're much too good to be a refuge for the
destitute."

"Depends on the destitute," said he. "I'd love to be a sort of asylum or
young ladies' home for you. Do take me this time, and have done with it
once and for all."

"It wouldn't be done with," I reminded him. "That's the worst of it."

"It might be the best of it, if I played my cards right. You know,
Peggy, not very long ago as the bird of time flies, you said you liked
me better than any other fellow. Has my stock gone down, or stands it
where it did?"

"Where it did, or even a point or two higher," I assured him. "But, dear
Tony, I'm afraid even _that_ isn't high enough for--for marriage, and
fearfully serious things like that, though lovely for a dance or the
theatre. Besides, I didn't say _exactly_ what you think I said."

"About liking me better than other men? Oh, I know you made one
exception. 'Tisn't jolly likely I'd forget! But you said the One
Exception didn't count. I haven't forgotten that either. He looked on
you as his sister or his maiden aunt."

"Oh, _not_ his maiden aunt!" I moaned. "I could bear anything but that.
And--and I'm afraid, after all, he _does_ count--just in my mind, you
know, not in any other way. But he's there and I can't--can't put him
out. I'm afraid I don't want to."

"Gee! That's a bad prospect for me," said Tony with a big sigh, luckily
not audible over the orchestra which was loudly playing between acts
"You made me love you, I didn't want to do it!" with variations. "But
see here, Peggy, it's just the same with me about you. I can't put _you_
out of my mind, and I don't mean to. There you are! What are we going to
do about this? Your best man won't come and play in your backyard, and
my best girl won't put her nose in mine. You'll always be my best girl,
because you're the best girl there is. So here's an idea: suppose I
don't ask to be best with you, and don't whine to be on the ground floor
or anything conceited? Couldn't you spare me a third-story back bedroom