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“Nonsense!” cried Lady Haigh; “what’s five years at your time of life? It’s we old people who can’t spare it. Why, anything may happen in five years.”

A good deal was to happen, more than either Charlie or Lady Haigh anticipated.

“Well,” said Charlie, “at least I shall see her once a-week. I must live on that, I suppose, and endure the rest of my time. Now, Cousin Elma, I have listened to you a good deal, so you must just listen to me a moment. Did you ever know a girl like her, so sweet and gentle, and so awfully good? I believe she could do anything she liked with me, and she doesn’t see it a bit. You know what I mean; she doesn’t seem to understand compliments, she always wants to talk sense. And the worst of it is, that whatever I say now she never thinks I’m in earnest. I know it’s my fault; you’ve told me over and over again not to talk so fast, but I can’t help it when—well, when I particularly want to make a good impression, you know, and now she won’t take me seriously. And I don’t want her to think that I am always playing the fool,—what can I do?”