I'd best be prudent, for I'm afraid you may get a little fierce you do sometimes when people vex me," began Rose, rather liking the prospect of a confidential chat with Uncle, for he had kept himself a good deal in the background lately.
"You know our ideas are old-fashioned, so I was not prepared to have men propose at all times and places with no warning but a few smiles and soft speeches.

I expected things of that sort would be very interesting and proper, not to say thrilling, on my part but they are not, and I find myself laughing instead of crying, feeling angry instead of glad, and forgetting all about it very soon.

Why, Uncle, one absurd boy proposed when we'd met only half a dozen times.

But he was dreadfully in debt, so that accounted for it perhaps." And Rose dusted her fingers, as if she had soiled them.
"I know him, and I thought he'd do it," observed the doctor with a shrug.
"You see and know everything, so there's no need of going on, is there ?" "Do, do! Who else?
I won't even guess." "Well, another went down upon his knees in Mrs.Van's greenhouse and poured forth his passion manfully, with a great cactus pricking his poor legs all the while.

Kitty found him there, and it was impossible to keep sober, so he has hated me ever since." The doctor's "Ha! Ha!" was good to hear, and Rose joined him, for it was impossible to regard these episodes seriously, since no true sentiment redeemed them from absurdity.
"Another sent me reams of poetry and went on so Byronically that I began to wish I had red hair and my name was Betsy Ann.