“I am not crazy, and I am not joking,” replied the girl, “and I think Rupert would suit me very well.  You see, I think a great deal more of Rupert than I do of Mr. Hemphill, although the latter gentleman has excellent points.  He is commonplace, and, above everything else, I want a commonplace husband.  I want some one to soothe me, and quiet me, and to give me ballast.  If there is anything out of the way to be done I want to do it myself.  I am sure he is in love with me, for his anxious efforts to make me believe that the frank avowal of my early affection had no effect upon him proves that he was very much affected.  I believe that he is truly in love with me.”

Mrs. Easterfield’s sharp eyes had seen this, and she had nothing to say.

“I believe,” continued Olive, “that a retrospect love will be a better foundation for conjugal happiness than any other sort of affection.  One can always look back to it no matter what happens, and be happy in the memory of it.  It would be something distinct which could never be interfered with.  You can’t imagine what an earnest and absorbing love I once had for that man!”

Mrs. Easterfield sprang to her feet.  “Olive Asher,” she cried, “I can’t listen to you if you talk in this way!”

“Well, then,” said Olive, “if you object so much to Rupert—­you must not forget that it would be Rupert that I would really marry if I became the wife of Mr. Hemphill—­do you advise me to take Mr. Locker?  And I will tell you this, he is not to be rudely set aside; he has warm-hearted points which I did not suspect at first.  I will tell you what he just said to me.  As I was coming up-stairs he hurried toward me, and his face showed that he was very anxious to speak to me.  So before he could utter a word, I told him that he was too early; that his hour had not yet arrived.  Then that good fellow said to me that he had seen I was in trouble, and that he had been informed it had been caused by bad news from my family.  He had made no inquiries because he did not wish to intrude upon my private affairs, and all he wished to say now was that while my mind was disturbed and worried he did not intend to present his own affairs to my attention, even though I had fixed regular times for his doing so.  But although he wished me to understand that I need not fear his making love to me just at this time, he wanted me to remember that his love was still burning as brightly as ever, and would be again offered me just as soon as he would be warranted in doing so.”

“And what did you say to that?” asked Mrs. Easterfield.

“I felt like patting him on the head,” Olive answered, “but instead of doing that I shook his hand just as warmly as I could, and told him I should not forget his consideration and good feeling.”

Mrs. Easterfield sighed.  “You have joined him fast to your car,” she said, “and yet, even if there were no one else, he would be impossible.”