“He did, dear—twice. But you see, I had accepted Clarence an hour before he came. Well, it is a great comfort to know that I never encouraged poor Jack! You will bear me out in that, I know. And oh, Emily, Clarence is the dearest person in the world! You can’t imagine how happy first love makes one! I—I wouldn’t say a word to Frances now if I saw her with one eyebrow a full half inch higher than the other. But, what is the matter? You—” “I—I feel a little faint, dear; that is all. Did you—er, try to soften the blow to Jack?” “I did. I advised him to marry Frances; said that I knew she would make him happier than I could ever have done, and their marriage was the one thing needed to complete my own happiness.” “Well, he wouldn’t marry her now if—not if she was a wealthy young widow. Did—did Jack say anything about me?” “Why, er—yes; he seemed sort of offended with you for something. I don’t know what it was. The only reference I made to you in our whole conversation, was to tell him that you had seen all along that I intended to marry Clarence. Of course if you had not been able to make him understand that fact, it was his own stupidity, and not your fault. Oh, I tell you, I always defend my friends—even before they are attacked! But what is the matter? You look sort of queer?” “I—I was only wondering what they would say at the club! They—they seemed to have an idea that you would marry Jack, and—” “Marry Jack Bittersweet! What on earth could have put such an idea into their heads? I only hope, Emily, that you—” “Oh, no, dear; nothing of the kind. I—I merely told them that he was on his way to ask you to marry him, and—” “Very thoughtful it was of you, dear. I only wish I could ask you to be bridesmaid for your pains; but Clarence has somehow gotten an idea that you are not a friend of his. There was no one else to oppose the match, and I—I doubt if he’d have asked me quite as soon if you hadn’t; so I shall try to forgive you, in time, for the things you have said about him.” The girl with the dimple in her chin gasped, but her only reply, was: “I really don’t know what the other members of the club will say. They—” “The club. I am so glad you mentioned it. There was a meeting to-day, was there not? I was just writing Evelyn a letter when you came in, saying—” “That you want us to meet twice a week after this! How nice; that is just—” “No, dear; it was a letter of resignation I was writing. Dear Clarence has such a horror of intellectual women, that I—” “But, Dorothy, you know when you founded the club, you said the membership would be for life, and—” “Emily Marshmallow, I never said anything of the kind! And, if I _did_, only a person of your colossal selfishness would expect me to waste my time on a mere club when I want to devote eighteen hours a day to the selection of my trousseau, and the other six to Clarence! And, if you want to know my real opinion of the club, I consider it the greatest bore among my social duties!”