He never drops in of an Afternoon to find her in a Blue
Wrapper and drying her Hair and she never catches him smelling of
Cigarettes.
When it comes down to close Work in a Parlor, there is always the Risk
of having Herbert Buttinsky on hand to make his Party Call. He who
tells his Love by U.S. Mail never hears anything about the Third
Party. He lives in the sweet Delusion that he has bought up the whole
House.
Harry's Letters to the Girl and the Girl's Letters to Harry became
more and more on that Order, until at last they began to burn holes in
the Mail Bags.
After comparing her Picture with all the Parlor Favorites that he
met on his Social Rounds, he realized that she outclassed all other
Representatives of her sex.
In her cosy Flat, far away, she had him propped up on the Piano in a
Silver-Gilt Frame and featured to beat the Cars. Any one who dropped
in to see her was made to understand that he was merely an Understudy,
who was being used as a Time-Killer.
She used to write to Harry and tell him about her Callers and what
Chumps they were, and then let him draw his own Conclusions as to who
was the real white-haired Papa.
Finally Harry took an Overdose of Nerve Food and asked her right out,
would she? The answer came back by Wire and the same Day he sent a
sealed Express Package containing the Ring.
After which they began to lay Plans to have a Wedding and become
better acquainted.
To be continued in our Next.
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