QUEX. [_Dryly._] Yes. Will you talk about your love affairs, Chick, or shall I--? FRAYNE. Certainly--you. Go on, Harry. QUEX. When I proposed marriage to Miss Eden--it was at the hunt-ball at Stanridge-- FRAYNE. [_His eyes sparkling._] Did you select a retired corner--with flowers--by any chance? QUEX. There _were_ flowers. FRAYNE. I know--_I_ know! Nearly twenty years ago, and the faint scent of the _Gardenia Florida_ remains in my nostrils! QUEX. Quite so. Would _you_ like to--? FRAYNE. [_Sitting._] No, no--you. Excuse me. You go on. QUEX. [_Sitting on the edge of the table, looking down upon_ FRAYNE.] When I proposed to Miss Eden I was certain--even while I was stammering it out--I was certain that my infernal evil character-- FRAYNE. Ah, yes. I've always been a dooced deal more artful than you, Harry, over my little _amours_. [_Chuckling._] Ha, ha! devilish cunning! QUEX. And I was right. Her first words were, "Think of your life; how can you ask this of me?"--her first words and her last, that evening. I was desperate, Chick, for I--Well, I'm hit, you know. FRAYNE. What did you do? QUEX. Came to town by the first train in the morning--drove straight off to Richmond, to my pious aunt. Found her in bed with asthma; _I_ got her up. And I almost went down on my knees to her, Chick. FRAYNE. Not really? QUEX. I did--old man as I am! no, I'm not old. FRAYNE. Forty-eight. Ha, ha! I'm only forty-five. QUEX. But you've had malaria-- FRAYNE. Dry up, Harry! QUEX. So we're quits. Well, down on my marrow-bones I went, metaphorically, and there and then I made my vows to old aunt Julia, and craved her help; and she dropped tears on me, Chick, like a mother. And the result was that within a month I became engaged to Miss Eden. FRAYNE. The young lady soon waived her-- QUEX. [_Getting off the table._] I beg your pardon--the young lady did nothing of the kind. But with aunt Julia's aid I showed 'em all that it was a genuine case of done with the old life--a real, genuine instance. [_Balancing upon the back of the chair._] I've sold my house in Norfolk Street. FRAYNE. You'll want one. QUEX. [_Gravely._] Not that one--for Muriel. [_Brightly._] And I'm living sedately at Richmond, under aunt Julia's wing. Muriel is staying at Fauncey Court too, just now; she's up from Norfolk for the Season, chaperoned by Mrs. Jack. [_Sitting, nursing his knee, with a sigh of content_.] Ah! after all, it's very pleasant to be a good boy. FRAYNE. When is it to take place? QUEX. At the end of the year; assuming, of course-- FRAYNE. That you continue to behave prettily? [QUEX _assents, with a wave of the hand._] The slightest lapse on your part--? QUEX. Impossible. FRAYNE. But it would--? QUEX. [_A little impatiently._] Naturally. FRAYNE. Well, six months pass quickly--everywhere but on the West Coast of Africa. QUEX. And then--you shall be my best man, Chick, if you're still home. FRAYNE.