At first I liked her for her good sense and goodness, then I admired, and then—but what’s the use of repeating the old, old story that has been so often told since Adam looked upon Eve and saw that she was good; and yet I will, for there is a pleasure in telling it—I loved her. By that electrical, unseen, unheard power or means of conveying messages from heart to heart that love has, I knew that she loved me. Nothing was said between us about it, for what need was there of telling when we both knew it all? After a while we talked as if the subject had been understood and settled for some time. I will not relate what we said, for nearly everybody knows our conversation all by heart; at least they ought to. Then the next question was about mama and papa. My dear little mama had gone, and I was still Japhet in search of his father, so there could be no trouble on my side, but hers? Aye, there was the rub. I had my “doots,” as the Scotch say, and yet I was full of courage. She was a fair lady and my heart was not faint. I concluded to attack the weaker half of the family first, but I found my mistake, for she was the stronger of the two when it came to heart affairs, as probably many men have learned to their sorrow when dealing with what is called the weaker sex. She listened most attentively, turning red, then white and so on, the red coming like flashes of lightning. I saw this danger signal at once, but love and courage made me go on. I had formed rather a tender regard for this expected mother-in-law. So in the gentlest, most winning terms and tones I could command, I plead my case. I saw and felt I had no chance from my first word. My courage at last took to its heels and I was trembling and powerless. It was one of the hardest and most trying bits of work I ever had and I have had not a few. When I had finished she said in angry tones, repressed like water bursting from a pipe under a pressure of seventy pounds to the square inch: “I am surprised! I am angry! How dare you think of such a thing? No, never! I tell you, never!” Just then the other half came in, but he was cold and rather mild and his better half remained on deck. In a word she told him what I wanted but gave him no chance to talk. “No,” she continued, “I tell you once for all. She shall never see you again. Before I would let her marry an Eurasian I would shoot her.” “And I would bury her,” said the other half. As I did not want any shooting or burying, just then, I thought it best to retreat, and having said, “I am very sorry,” departed.