"I am. It's just because I'm so serious that I jest. All the wittiest men are broken-hearted. Go on."
"Well, my dear Billy, you mustn't be foolish. I'm very fond of you, but you're so ridiculously young."
"You haven't a revolver about you?" I enquired.
Daphne sighed. "Billy, you're quite hopeless. Do let me try to explain. You see, I can't--well--flirt with you, because I don't really flirt, of course, and besides your cousin's different--he's married."
I got up quickly. "Good-bye," I said. "You must excuse my leaving you."
Daphne looked surprised. "Where are you going?" she enquired.
"To get married." I walked away with my head in the air.
A week later I wrote Daphne a letter. It ran as follows:--
"MY DEAR DAPHNE,--I am going to get married. Tina is nineteen, the same as you, and is in the chorus of a musical comedy. She has real jet black hair, so I am quite lucky. I hope you are fonder of me already.
In reply, and by return of post, I received an invitation to tea at Daphne's. Daphne, looking beautiful, was awaiting me.
"Billy," Daphne began, "will you be really serious with me?"
I immediately assumed a business manner and coughed.
The word was sharp and incisive, a regular lawyer's question.
"Of course, you're joking about this chorus girl?"
"Joking! Daphne, you know I'd do anything for you."
Daphne smiled. "But, Billy, I shan't like you any better if you marry her."
I bit a piece of cake coldly. "I don't understand you, Daphne," I said. "When I ask you to show me a little affection, only just what you show others, you tell me I'm young and married men are different. I arrange to be different at considerable personal sacrifice, and you tell me you won't like me any better." I swallowed convulsively.
"But, Billy--dear--you're not actually engaged?"
"I'm not so sure," I replied. "These girls are wonderfully sharp; and then, of course, I'm so young." (A good touch.)
"I shall hate you if you marry a chorus girl," said Daphne.
"Then why did you tell me married men were different?"
"Because most of them are." Daphne smiled slowly. "I think I might like you better if you were married to some really nice girl."
I laughed bitterly. "To you, for instance?"
[Illustration: IN VIEW OF THE EXAGGERATED AND MISLEADING REPORTS OF WHAT OCCURS AT THE CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN MR. ASQUITH AND MR. BONAR LAW ON THE ULSTER QUESTION WE VENTURE TO THINK THAT A LITTLE MAKE-UP AND CAREFUL CHOICE OF RENDEZVOUS WOULD ENABLE THE LEADERS TO HAVE MANY A LONG CHAT ON THE SUBJECT WITHOUT ANYONE BEING AWARE OF THEIR HAVING MET.]