In algebra, when _a_, _b_, and _c_ are computed, it is possible to find the unknown quantity _x_. Applying an algebraic formula to the above, we at once deduce what is necessary to complete the factors. It may be stated thus: _a_, a sofa, plus _b_, a charming girl; and as _a_, a sofa, must be divided by two, we find the unknown quantity to be _x_, a man, and the product of our _a_, _b_, and _x_ to equal _xxx_, or triple bliss. Nor is this wrong. The sofa does not do more than seat two people comfortably, yet at the present moment there are little spaces at both ends. Concerning the other details of this _a ÷ 2 + b + x − 0_ (_i. e._ Mrs. Grundy), it seems needless to enlarge. “And isn’t it wonderful, Freddy, that you should love me and I should love you?” cooed the girl. “Just out of sight,” replied Freddy. Most people would agree with the above remarks, though the circumstance of a man and woman occasionally loving each other is a phenomenon recognised, if not approved, by science. But though these two did not know it, there was a wonder here. Freddy has been spoken of in the masculine gender, because, as Shakespeare wrote: “The Lord made him, therefore let him pass for a man.” Otherwise his manliness was open to debate. Lovable the girl unquestionably was, or at least very fast verging upon it, but it passeth human intelligence how Freddy could inspire any sort of feeling except an intense longing for a gun loaded with goose-shot. “And that we should have loved each other for so long, and never either of us dreamed that we cared one little bit for each other,” continued the girl. Freddy did not assent to this sentiment as readily as to the former. Freddy had been quite sure that Frances had been pining for his love in secret for some months. So he only remarked: “We got there all the same.” “Yes,” assented Frances. “And we’ll love each other always, now.” “But I say,” inquired Freddy, “what do you think your father and mother will say?” “Why, they’ll be delighted,” cried the girl. “It couldn’t be better. Cousins,—and just the same age—and, and— Oh, lots of other reasons, I’m sure, but I can’t think of them now.” “Let’s tell them together,” suggested Freddy, courageously. “Freddy! Of course not. That isn’t the right way. No, you must request an interview with papa in his library, and plead eloquently with him.” “I suppose I must,” answered Freddy, with a noticeable limpness in his voice and vertebræ. “Wouldn’t it be fun if he should refuse his consent!” exclaimed the girl. Freddy did not recognise the comical quality. “I don’t see it,” he moaned. “Why, it would be so romantic! He would of course order you to leave the house, and never, never darken his doors again. That’s what the father always does.” “You think that’s fun?”