“Then why don’t you get yours over and be done with it?” persisted the girl. “Oh, I am not in any hurry to lose my bachelor freedom, sis; I fancy Rose would henpeck me dreadfully,” yawning. “She would not, I’m sure--that is if you behave yourself, sir! Of course you would have to give up some of your bad habits if you were a married man--flirting, for instance--and--and--drinking! You are a little too fond of the winecup, aren’t you, now?” “Yes--if you say so,” he replied nonchalantly, taking his lecture coolly, and adding: “I wonder if Rose is going to write out a list of musts and must nots for me to sign on the wedding day; do you know?” “Oh, nonsense! Go and ask her if you want to know! She’s in the library now, half crying because a girl asked her if her wedding would be soon, otherwise she wanted her to make one of a house party at her home this fall. Don’t you see how embarrassing the uncertainty is, Charley?” “Yes, I see. We must have an understanding about it,” he replied, with a sudden gravity that emboldened her to add: “Only yesterday Rosalind refused a proposal that was exceptional, in every way, and when she told me of it she half sighed: ‘He’s very nice, and if I had not been engaged to Charley, I might have said yes.’” “It isn’t too late to call him back. I’ll tell her she may do so!” he exclaimed eagerly. Marie pinched his ear and laughed: “Getting jealous, are you, old boy? Well, you see, there are others who admire Rose beside yourself.” “Yes, I see,” he replied, getting up carelessly, and moving to the door. “You’re going to Rosalind?” she asked hopefully. “Yes, I will not delay speaking to her any longer,” he replied, going out as he spoke, and getting a glass of wine to steady himself, for he owned to himself he was a little bit nervous, thinking uneasily. “She’ll make no end of a scene, of course--maybe call me a cur and all that. The sooner it’s over, the better.” Fortified with several glasses of wine, he wended his way to the library. Rosalind was there, sure enough, exquisitely gowned in some soft green fabric, with loads of lace trimming, that was very becoming to her blond type and she reclined rather pensively in a large leather chair. CHAPTER XX. FATE WILLED OTHERWISE. “Ah, Charley, it is you. I am so glad, for you were just now in my thoughts!” cried Rosalind, beaming up at him with a tender smile. Charley throwing himself down carelessly into the opposite chair, returned lightly: “Very complimentary, I am sure, for I fancied you were thinking of the other fellow.” She wrinkled her brows at him. “The other fellow?” “Yes, you know, Rosalind--the one who was so nice you would have accepted his proposal if you hadn’t been engaged to me.” “So Marie told you that nonsense, Charley! Ha! ha! Of course it was only a jest!” laughed Rosalind, looking up at him with arch blue eyes, full of tenderness.