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Campbell:“Thank you, Mrs. Somers. I’m glad I ventured out.”

Mrs. Somers, turning about: “What?” Then realizing the situation: “Oh, poor Mr. Campbell!”

Campbell:“Oh, don’t mind me! I can stand it if you can. I belong to a sex, thank you, that doesn’t pretend to have any tact. I would just as soon tell a man he was a bore as not. But I thought it might worry a lady, perhaps.”

Mrs. Somers:“Worry? I’m simply aghast at it. Did you ever hear of anything worse?”

Campbell:“Well, not much worse.”

Mrs. Somers:“What can I do to make you forget it?”

Campbell:“I can’t think of anything. It seems to me that I shall always remember it as the most fortunate speech a lady ever made to me–and they have said some flattering things to me in my time.”

Mrs. Somers:“Oh, don’t be entirely heartless. Wouldn’t a cup of tea blot it out? With a Peak & Frean?” She advances beseechingly upon him. “Come, I will give you a cup at once.”

Campbell:“No, thank you; I would rather have it with the rest of the bores. They’ll be sure to come.”

Mrs. Somers, resuming her seat on the sofa: “You are implacable. And I thought you said you were generous.”

Campbell:“No; merely magnanimous. I can’t forget your cruel frankness; but I know you can, and I ask you to do it.” He throws himself back in his chair with a sigh. “And who knows? Perhaps you were right.”

Mrs. Somers:“About what?”

Campbell:“My being a bore.”

Mrs. Somers:“I should think you would know.”

Campbell:“No; that’s the difficulty. Nobody would be a bore if he knew it.”

Mrs. Somers:“Oh, some would, I think.”

Campbell:“Do you mean me?”

Mrs. Somers:“Well, no, then. I don’t believe you would be a bore, if you knew it. Is that enough? or do you expect me to say something more?”

Campbell:“No, it’s quite enough, thank you.” He remains pensively silent.

Mrs. Somers, after waiting for him to speak: “Bores for bores, don’t you hate the silent ones most?”

Campbell, desperately rousing himself: “Mrs. Somers, if you only knew how disagreeable I was going to make myself just before I concluded to hold my tongue!”

Mrs. Somers:“Really? What were you going to say?”

Campbell:“Do you actually wish to know?”

Mrs. Somers:“Oh no; I only thought you wished to tell.”

Campbell:“Not at all. You complained of my being silent.”

Mrs. Somers:“Did I? I was wrong. I will never do so again.” She laughs in her fan.

Campbell:“And I complain of your delay. You can tell me now, just as well as two weeks hence, whether you love me enough to marry me or not.”

Mrs. Somers:“You promised not to recur to that subject without some hint from me. You have broken your promise.”

Campbell:“Well, you wouldn’t give me any hint.”

Mrs. Somers:“How can I believe you care for me if you are false in this?”

Campbell:“It seems to me that my falsehood is another proof of my affection.”

Mrs. Somers:“Very well, then; you can wait till I know my mind.”

Campbell:“I’d rather know your heart. But I’ll wait.” After a pause: “Why do you carry a fan on a day like this? I ask, to make general conversation.”

Mrs. Somers:, spreading the fan in her lap, and looking at it curiously: “I don’t know.” After a moment: “Oh yes; for the same reason that I shall have ice-cream after dinner to-day.”