“If I have surprised you, will you say that you will take time to think of it?” pleaded Mr Maguire.

Miss Mackenzie, speaking in the lowest possible voice, said that she would take time to think of it.

When a lady says that she will take time to think of such a proposition, the gentleman is generally justified in supposing that he has carried his cause. When a lady rejects a suitor, she should reject him peremptorily. Anything short of such peremptory reaction is taken for acquiescence. Mr Maguire consequently was elated, called her Margaret, and swore that he loved her as he had never loved woman yet.

“And when may I come again?” he asked.

Miss Mackenzie begged that she might be allowed a fortnight to think of it.

“Certainly,” said the happy man.

“And you must not be surprised,” said Miss Mackenzie, “if I make some inquiry about Miss Floss.”

“Any inquiry you please,” said Mr Maguire. “It is all in that woman’s brain; it is indeed. Miss Floss, perhaps, has thought of it; but I can’t help that, can I? I can’t help what has been said to her. But if you mean anything as to a promise from me, Margaret, on my word as a Christian minister of the Gospel, there has been nothing of the kind.”

She did not much mind his calling her Margaret; it was in itself such a trifle; but when he made a fuss about kissing her hand it annoyed her.

“Only your hand,” he said, beseeching the privilege.

“Pshaw,” she said, “what’s the good?”

She had sense enough to feel that with such lovemaking as that between her and her lover there should be no kissing till after marriage; or at any rate, no kissing of hands, as is done between handsome young men of twenty-three and beautiful young ladies of eighteen, when they sit in balconies on moonlight nights. A good honest kiss, mouth to mouth, might not be amiss when matters were altogether settled; but when she thought of this, she thought also of his eye and shuddered. His eye was not his fault, and a man should not be left all his days without a wife because he squints; but still, was it possible? could she bring herself to endure it?

He did kiss her hand, however, and then went. As he stood at the door he looked back fondly and exclaimed—

“On Monday fortnight, Margaret; on Monday fortnight.”

“Goodness gracious, Mr Maguire,” she answered, “do shut the door;” and then he vanished.

As soon as he was gone she remembered that his name was Jeremiah. She did not know how she had learned it, but she knew that such was the fact. If it did come to pass how was she to call him? She tried the entire word Jeremiah, but it did not seem to answer. She tried Jerry also, but that was worse. Jerry might have been very well had they come together fifteen years earlier in life, but she did not think that she could call him Jerry now. She supposed it must be Mr Maguire; but if so, half the romance of the thing would be gone at once!