When she's with me I feel rough, and ignorant, and useless, and--" "What a soothing companion!" I broke in.
"Poor Damer! So you want him to marry her, as one takes nasty medicine--all for his good." "Want him to marry her!" repeated Polly, expressively.

"No.

But I am satisfied that he should marry _her_.

So long as he is really happy, and his wife is worthy of him--and _she_ is worthy of him--" A light dawned upon me, and I interrupted her.
"Why, Polly, it _is_ Leo that you care for!" We were sitting under an old mulberry-tree near the gate, in the kitchen garden, but when I said this Polly jumped up and tried to run away.

I caught her hand to detain her, and we were standing very much in the attitude of the couple in a certain sentimental print entitled "The Last Appeal," when the gate close by us opened, and my father put his head into the garden, shouting "James! James!" I dropped Polly's hand, and struck by the same idea, we both blushed ludicrously; for the girls knew as well as I did the plans made on our behalf by our respective parents.
"The men are at dinner, sir," said I, going towards my father.