"First aid to the wounded is right in my line," Edith assured him helpfully. Even with the inspiration which expectancy on the part of an audience is always supposed to give a speaker, Cosden's fluency became somewhat modified when he actually touched upon his main topic. "I'm a peculiar sort of man, I've no doubt--" "I wouldn't give a snap of my finger for a man who didn't possess individuality," she interrupted emphatically. "Well, perhaps it is more than individuality. Men seem to understand me all right, but I've never had a sister, and I've been too tied down by my business to cultivate women. I'm a man's man--I suppose that about expresses it." "That's a good recommendation; look at my brother,--he's a lady's man. Would you change individualities with Ricky?" "Perhaps not," Cosden said guardedly; "still in this matter your brother could probably give me a pointer or two.--Hang it all! when I talk to a man I don't have any difficulty in making myself understood, but here I am, floundering round with you like a school-boy!" "Just imagine for the moment that I am a man and that you are talking to me about some one else--" "That's it exactly; I knew you would understand. I thought Monty would help me out, but he absolutely refuses to take me seriously. The truth of the matter is that I've decided to get married." Even with the preparation given her by Huntington's remarks Cosden's statement came with an abruptness which surprised Edith into a becoming flutter. Her eyes fell for the moment and she could feel a flush come into her face. Knowing how some men admire the combination of blue eyes and rosy cheeks she hastened to look up, but was disappointed to find her companion's gaze resting upon the distant horizon. "You have decided?" she asked archly; "where does the girl come in?" "Oh, she'll come in all right at the finish, I've no doubt," Cosden replied. "I'm taking you at your word, and I'm talking to you just as I would to a man. I want you to tell me what I ought to do to make sure that nothing goes wrong. I've always got what I've gone after, and it would break me all up to come a cropper just because I hadn't handled the matter right." "Have you given the prospective bride any suggestion of your intentions?" Edith inquired, her eyes again drooping. "Not a word. That's not my way. I always plan things out to the finish, and then it's plain sailing to the end." "Have you reason to think she cares for you?" "She has no more idea that I think of marrying anybody than you had before I began to tell you; but I don't see why she should have any special objection to me. The whole point is, I'm somewhat older than she, and I'm not sure that I speak the same language." Edith's mind executed some lightning mathematical calculations, and she wondered if he were older than he looked. "There is not too much difference, I am sure." "Just eighteen years," Cosden announced with finality.