It would serve Juliet just right and make up
to Isabel for what he had done.
"I say, Isabel," he began awkwardly. "Would you be willing to marry me?"
Isabel quickly dried her tears. "Why, I don't know," she answered, much
astonished. Then the practical side of her nature asserted itself. "Have
you got money enough?"
Romeo tendered the handful of currency. "All this, and plenty more in
the bank."
"I know, but it was the bank I was talking about. Have you got enough
for us to live at a nice hotel and go to the theatre every night?"
"More than that," Romeo asserted, confidently. "I've got loads."
"I--don't know," said Isabel, half to herself. "It would serve them all
right. Allison used to be jealous of you," she added, with a sidelong
glance that set his youthful heart to fluttering.
"Juliet is jealous of you," Romeo responded disloyally. "We had an awful
scrap this morning because I asked her why she didn't try to be a lady,
like you."
"Of course," replied Isabel, smoothing her gown with a dainty hand,
"I've always liked Juliet, but I liked you better."
"Really, Isabel? Did you always like me?"
"Always.
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