He was not impetuous enough
to persist.
"Oh, you master of the art of love-making!" she cried. Pique mingled
with mirth in her tone. "First, you propose to me in the midst of the
mob; then you propose to me, bursting in like a messenger-boy, and
yonder the Governor of this State, with anxious head out of his carriage
window, scowling because you don't come along! Admirable occasions for
pledging passion and life-long devotion! Dear Harlan, your ingenuity
must be puzzled by this time. I'll make a suggestion: fly over our house
in a balloon and shout your declaration down the chimney. I'll sit in
the fireplace from two to four, afternoons."
"I'll not be put off!" he cried.
"You shall be put out, and I'll do it!" Laughing, she took him by his
arm and led him out into the hall. Protesting, he went. "I have some
respect for the feelings of our Governor on a chilly afternoon, even if
you haven't. You are excused from our little dinner. Go, now, Harlan.
I'm serious."
"There's one thing you have given me," he said, red, half-angry, and
thoroughly subdued, "and that's the promise that I may take you to the
legislative ball.
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