"Oh, Grace!" he exclaimed, "you are not trifling with me ?" "What makes you think I am trifling with you ?" Horace was innocent enough to answer her seriously.

"You would not even let me speak of our marriage just now," he said.
"Never mind what I did just now," she retorted, petulantly.

"They say women are changeable.

It is one of the defects of the sex." "Heaven be praised for the defects of the sex!" cried Horace, with devout sincerity.

"Do you really leave me to decide ?" "If you insist on it." Horace considered for a moment--the subject being the law of marriage.
"We may be married by license in a fortnight," he said.