"I'm not going to give you any encouragement," said Beatrix. "If you really love her, and don't ask her without wanting to know beforehand what she'll say--well, of course, you _can't_ really love her." Somewhat to her surprise, and a little to her dismay, he seemed to be considering this. "Well, I don't want to make a mistake," he said. "I'll tell you how it is. I never seem to get beyond a certain point with her. I know this, that if she'd just give me a little something, I should be head over ears. Then I shouldn't want to ask you or anybody. I should go straight in. That's how it is." Beatrix was interested in this disclosure. It threw a light upon the mysterious nature of man's love, as inflammable material which needs a spark to set it ablaze. In a rapid review of her own case she saw exactly where she had provided the spark, and the hint of a question came to her, which there was no time to examine into, as to which of the two really comes to a decision first, the man or the woman. She would not, however, admit to him that it was to be expected of a girl that she should indicate the answer she would give to a question before it had been asked. She also wanted to find out if there was any feeling in his mind that he would not be doing well for himself and his family if he should marry Mollie. On her behalf she was prepared to resent such an idea, and to tell him quite frankly what she thought about it. "Don't you think she's worth taking a little risk about?" she asked. "She's worth anything," he said simply, and she liked him for the speech, but stuck to her exploratory purpose. "If you've made it so plain that you want her," she said, "I suppose your people know about it. What do they say?" "Say? They don't say anything. I've paid attentions to young women before, you know. It's supposed to be rather a habit of mine." She liked this speech much less. "Perhaps that's why Mollie doesn't accept them with the gratitude you seem to expect of her," she said. "I don't like your way of talking about her." "Talking about her? What do you mean? I've said nothing about her at all, except that I think she's the sweetest thing in the world. At least I haven't said that, but I've implied it, haven't I? Anyhow, that's what I do think." "Haven't you thought that about the others you're so proud of having paid attention to?" "I didn't say I was proud of it. How you do take a fellow up. Yes, perhaps I have thought it once or twice. I don't want to make myself out what I'm not."