He was a
capital young fellow, handsome, clean-souled, and whole-hearted.
From a worldly point of view he was what Sara would have termed
an excellent match; he had money, social standing and a rising
reputation as a clever young lawyer. Yes, he should have Betty,
confound him!
They had never met. I set the wheels going at once. The sooner
all the fuss was over the better. I hated fuss and there was
bound to be a good deal of it. But I went about the business
like an accomplished matchmaker. I invited Frank to visit The
Maples and, before he came, I talked much...but not too much...of
him to Betty, mingling judicious praise and still more judicious
blame together. Women never like a paragon. Betty heard me with
more gravity than she usually accorded to my dissertations on
young men. She even condescended to ask several questions about
him. This I thought a good sign.
To Frank I had said not a word about Betty; when he came to The
Maples I took him over to Glenby and, coming upon Betty wandering
about among the beeches in the sunset, I introduced him without
any warning.
He would have been more than mortal if he had not fallen in love
with her upon the spot. It was not in the heart of man to resist
her...that dainty, alluring bit of womanhood. She was all in
white, with flowers in her hair, and, for a moment, I could have
murdered Frank or any other man who dared to commit the sacrilege
of loving her.
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