FRAYNE.
[_In sentimental retrospection._] Fell in love! what memories are awakened by the dear old phrase!
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?