can’t fool all the millionaires every time the ball drops on the Western Union Building.
“If, at any time,’’ he said to A. v. d. R., “you feel that you would like to reconsider your answer, send me a rose like that.”
Pilkins audaciously touched a Jacque rose that she wore loosely in her hair. “Very well,” said she. “And when I do, you will understand by it that either you or I have learned something new about the purchasing power of money. You’ve been spoiled, my friend. No, I don’t think I could marry you. To-morrow I will send you back the presents you have given me.”
“Presents!” said Pilkins in surprise. “I never gave you a present in my life. I would like to see a full-length portrait of the man that you would take a present from. Why, you never would let me send you flowers or candy or even art calendars.”
“You’ve forgotten,” said Alice v. d. R., with a little smile. “It was a long time ago when our families were neighbours. You were seven, and I was trundling my doll on the sidewalk. You gave me a little gray, hairy kitten, with shoe-buttony eyes. Its head came off and it was full of candy. You paid five cents for it—you told me so. I haven’t the candy to return to you—I had n’t developed a conscience at three, so I ate it. But I have the kitten yet, and I will wrap it up neatly to-night and send it to you to-morrow.
Beneath the lightness of Alice v. d. R.’s talk the steadfastness of her rejection showed firm and plain.
