"Oh, Billy, do be sensible," Daphne murmured. I moderated my tone. "Well, look here," I said, "why are you so cold to me and yet flirt with my cousin? I saw you putting his tie straight and patting his arm just now; and you won't let me even hold your hand. It's pretty hard, Daphne." She laughed. "My dear Billy--" "Many thanks for yours of yesterday. I am having a very good time and it is really kind of me to write." "If you won't be sensible--" "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. Yours devotedly, BILLY." In reply, and by return of post, I received an invitation to tea at Daphne's. Daphne, looking beautiful, was awaiting me. "How d'you do?" I said gravely. "Billy," Daphne began, "will you be really serious with me?" I immediately assumed a business manner and coughed. "Well?" I said. 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.) There was a silence. "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?" "Yes, to me," said Daphne very sweetly. * * * * *