Page:Emily Climbs.pdf/315

“He seemed to feel that he ought to say something more but didn’t know just what—so he repeated ‘just as soon as I’m able to’ and stopped.

“I don’t believe I even went through the motions of a blush.

“‘Why should we get married?’ I said.

“Andrew looked aghast. Evidently this was not the Murray tradition of receiving a proposal.

“‘Why? Why? Because—Id like it,’ he stammered.

“‘I wouldn't,’ I said.

“Andrew stared at me for a few moments trying to take in the amazing idea that he was being refused.

“‘But why?’ he asked—exactly in Aunt Ruth’s tone and manner.

“‘Because I don’t love you,’ I said.

“Andrew did blush. I know he thought I was immodest.

“‘I—I—think—they’d all like it,’ he stammered.

“‘I wouldn't,’ I said again. I said it in a tone even Andrew couldn’t mistake.

“He was so surprised I don’t think he felt anything but surprise—not even disappointment. He didn’t know what to do or say—a Murray couldn’t coax—so he got up and went out without another word. I thought he banged the door but afterwards I discovered it was only the wind. I wish he had banged the door. It would have saved my self-respect. It is mortifying to refuse a man and then discover that his main feeling is bewilderment.

“Next morning Aunt Ruth, evidently suspecting something amiss from the brevity of Andrew’s call, asked me point blank what had happened. There’s nothing subtle about Aunt Ruth. I told her just as point blankly.

“‘What fault have you to find with Andrew?’ she asked icily.

“‘No fault—but he tastes flat. He has all the virtues but the pinch of salt was left out,’ I said, with my nose in the air.