"You know, Dick," she said, softly, as he still gazed across the green lawn, trying to find a mental foothold, as it were, "that I told you this before"———
"Yes, this makes the sixth time I have proposed," he said, savagely, still looking away.
"I have always told you," smiling slightly at his remark and lowering her voice as she glanced apprehensively at a girl seated on a bench near by, "that I will not marry you as long as you live as you do. I have money enough for two, so it makes no difference whether the man I marry has any or not. But I can't and won't marry a—a worthless man—one who has never done anything, and is too indolent to do anything. I want a husband who has some ability—who has accomplished something—just one worthy thing even, and then—well, it won't make so much difference if he is indolent afterwards. You know, Dick,
