“Gee!” sighed Masie, thankfully.  “Why didn’t you ever think of that before?”

“Masie,” said Carter, earnestly, “you surely know that I love you.  I ask you sincerely to marry me.  You know me well enough by this time to have no doubts of me.  I want you, and I must have you.  I care nothing for the difference in our stations.”

“What is the difference?” asked Masie, curiously.

“Well, there isn’t any,” said Carter, quickly, “except in the minds of foolish people.  It is in my power to give you a life of luxury.  My social position is beyond dispute, and my means are ample.”

“They all say that,” remarked Masie.  “It’s the kid they all give you.  I suppose you really work in a delicatessen or follow the races.  I ain’t as green as I look.”

“I can furnish you all the proofs you want,” said Carter, gently.  “And I want you, Masie.  I loved you the first day I saw you.”

“They all do,” said Masie, with an amused laugh, “to hear ’em talk.  If I could meet a man that got stuck on me the third time he’d seen me I think I’d get mashed on him.”

“Please don’t say such things,” pleaded Carter.  “Listen to me, dear.  Ever since I first looked into your eyes you have been the only woman in the world for me.”

“Oh, ain’t you the kidder!” smiled Masie.  “How many other girls did you ever tell that?”

But Carter persisted.  And at length he reached the flimsy, fluttering little soul of the shopgirl that existed somewhere deep down in her lovely bosom.  His words penetrated the heart whose very lightness was its safest armor.  She looked up at him with eyes that saw.  And a warm glow visited her cool cheeks.  Tremblingly, awfully, her moth wings closed, and she seemed about to settle upon the flower of love.  Some faint glimmer of life and its possibilities on the other side of her glove counter dawned upon her.  Carter felt the change and crowded the opportunity.

“Marry me, Masie,” he whispered softly, “and we will go away from this ugly city to beautiful ones.  We will forget work and business, and life will be one long holiday.  I know where I should take you—­I have been there often.  Just think of a shore where summer is eternal, where the waves are always rippling on the lovely beach and the people are happy and free as children.  We will sail to those shores and remain there as long as you please.  In one of those far-away cities there are grand and lovely palaces and towers full of beautiful pictures and statues.  The streets of the city are water, and one travels about in—­”

“I know,” said Masie, sitting up suddenly.  “Gondolas.”

“Yes,” smiled Carter.

“I thought so,” said Masie.

“And then,” continued Carter, “we will travel on and see whatever we wish in the world.  After the European cities we will visit India and the ancient cities there, and ride on elephants and see the wonderful temples of the Hindoos and Brahmins and the Japanese gardens and the camel trains and chariot races in Persia, and all the queer sights of foreign countries.  Don’t you think you would like it, Masie?”