With a Reservation
“Miss Smith—Belinda,” sighed the young man, passionately, “there is something I want to tell you—something that I——”
“What is it?” asked the girl, as she leaned back in her chair, with a bored expression on her face.
The young man drew a long breath, and his face turned to dull purple. “It is a question which is very near to any heart,” he said awkwardly. “Could you—do you think you could ever marry a man like me?”
“Oh, yes,” replied Belinda, quite calmly, “that is, if he wasn’t too much like you!”