“How utterly silly!” she laughed. “Caleb, this society idea of yours has become an obsession. What do I care for that sort of thing? It’s pleasant to be asked to houses where one has a good time. That’s all. It’s like eating ice-cream when one is used to bread pudding. I’m not anxious to eat, drink and breathe nothing but ice-cream three times a day all the rest of my life. Why should I want a ‘cinched place in society’ as you so elegantly put it?” “You don’t understand,” he insisted. “It means a lot more’n that. With your looks and brains an’--an’ the big lot of cash your father left you,--you could make no end of a hit there. You’d run the whole works inside of five years. You’d have the same sort of position here in Granite that Mrs. Astor an’ those people have in New York. Think of that, Dey! It’s a thing you can’t afford to throw away. When anyone says he don’t care to shine in s’ciety,--well, you may not tell him so; but you think it, all the same. An’ it’d be a crime for _you_ to miss it all. If you marry the right sort of man--” “‘The right sort of man!’” mimicked Desirée, wrathfully, “Caleb, there are times when I’d like to box your ears. I wish you and Mr. Caine would mind your own grubby Steeloid business and not gabble like two old washerwomen about my affairs. ‘The right sort of a man--!’ Why,--” “How’d you like to marry Amzi Nicholas Caine?” suggested Conover, tentatively. “Dandy fam’ly,--fairly rich--good looker--travels in the best crowd--” “Warranted sound and kind--a child can drive him--a good hill climber--guaranteed rustless,” snapped Desirée in lofty contempt. “Caleb, do you _want_ to be made to drink more tea?” “Honest, girl, I’m in earnest. He’s--” “He’s engaged to Letty Standish, for one thing. And if he wasn’t, I wouldn’t marry him if he and a tone-deaf piano tuner were the only two men left on earth.” “His bein’ engaged to the Standish girl needn’t matter,” urged Caleb, too much engrossed in her first observation to note the second, “Because I can fix that all right.” In spite of her indignation, Desirée laughed aloud. “Oh, you great and wise man!” she cried. “How, may I ask?” “I don’t know yet,” he said with perfect confidence, “Because I haven’t thought it over. But I can fix it. I can always fix things when I have to.” “Well, in this case,” she retorted, “you can spare yourself the crime of parting two loving souls and fracturing two adoring hearts and shattering Granite’s social fabric just on my account. When I really want to marry and I find I can’t lure the shrinking Adonis to my feet I’ll let you know. Then you can try your luck at making him propose.”