He had no mental fear.

But he proposed to a girl--and was accepted." She gave him one of those sudden, swift glances that were so disconcerting.
"If you had a middle initial, there would be thirteen letters in your own name, Arthur Weldon." "But I haven't, Diana; I haven't," he protested, eagerly.

"And if ever I propose to a girl I'm sure she'll refuse me.

But I've no intention of doing such a crazy thing, so I'm perfectly safe." "You cannot be sure until you try, Arthur," she replied pointedly, and with a start he became conscious that he was again treading upon dangerous ground.
"Come; let us rejoin your guests," said he, offering her his arm.

"They would all hate me if they knew I was keeping the fair Diana from them so long." "Arthur, I must have a good long; talk with you--one of our old, delightful confabs," she said, earnestly.