Then she took his hand and patted it kindly.
"You're a sentimental old boy, aren't you, David!" she said, playfully--"You like being taken care of and fussed over! Of course you do! Was there ever a man that didn't!" He was silent, but he pressed her caressing hand gratefully.
"No one has ever taken care of or fussed over _me_," said Reay--"I should rather like to try the experiment!" Mary laughed good-humouredly.
"You must find yourself a wife,"-- she said--"And then you'll see how you like it." "But wives don't make any fuss over their husbands it seems to me," replied Reay--"At any rate in London, where I have lived for the past five years--husbands seem to be the last persons in the world whom their wives consider.

I don't think I shall ever marry." "I'm sure _I_ shan't,"-- said Mary, smiling--and as she spoke, she bent over the fire, and threw a fresh log of wood on to keep up the bright glow which was all that illuminated the room, from which almost every pale glimmer of the twilight had now departed--"I'm an old maid.

But I was an engaged girl once!" Helmsley lifted up his head with sudden and animated interest.
"Were you, Mary ?" "Oh, yes!" And the smile deepened round her expressive mouth and played softly in her eyes--"Yes, David, really! I was engaged to a very good-looking young man in the electrical engineering business.

And I was very fond of him.

But when my father lost every penny, my good-looking young man went too.