Chapter LVIII: Interesting to Bashful Men

"'Faint heart ne'er won fair lady.'

"Didn't _it though_! I FAN-cy it _does_! If there's anything in the world that is _quite entirely_ interesting, it's a man who daresn't _say_ 'I love you,' though _his_ eyes told the story long ago! Of course you don't _know_ anything about it. Oh, no! Can't, for the soul of you, tell why he never comes near you without a tremor, or what possesses him to say 'yes,' instead of 'no,' or to kiss your little brother so often, and give him so much sugar-candy! Have no idea _why_ he looks so '_distrait_'and embarrassed, when you take another gentleman's arm or smile at him. Never see that bright magnetic sparkle in his eye when you call him _Harry_, instead of _Mr._ Fay. Don't see him pick up a rosebud that you dropped from your girdle, and hide it in his vest! (_don't like it, either!!_) You don't notice what a _long job_ he makes of it, putting your shawl on. You haven't the slightest suspicion _where_ the _mate_ of your little kid glove went, the last time you went to walk; you are _not at all magnetically affected yourself_! Oh, no, _not a bit of it_! Just as cool as a fur--_refrigerator_!

"Don't feel a bit _nervous_ when your mother gets up and leaves the room! Always have a topic at your tongue's end to dash off on. Never pick your ribbons all to pieces because you daresn't look him in the face. Never _refuse_ to go to ride with him, when you are just _dying_ to go. Never blush as red as a pulpit cushion, when your brother teases you about him, or say 'you don't care a fig for him.' When HIS ring at the door sends your heart to your mouth, you never snatch up a book and get so _entirely_ absorbed in it, that he is obliged to touch your arm, before you can find out that he's in your presence! _You never read his notes, when you could say them all off with your eyes shut!_ You never _hide them_ where anybody can find them--without you should be taken with a fainting fit! You take precious good care to keep _all that_ from _Mr._ Fay!

"All right, dear; don't hold out a _single straw to help him ashore_! Make him come _every step_ of the way _without a guide-board_! but when be GETS THERE--hem!--if you _own_ a soul--_tell him so_!

"'_Faint heart never won fair lady_,' hey! _I differ!_ If there's anything that's a _regular shower-bath to love_, it's your _'veni, vidi, vici' man_, who considers himself so _excruciatingly_ omnipotent! Softly, sir! _Forewarned, forearmed!_ You rouse all the antagonism in our nature! The more you _are sure you'll win, the more you won't_! You've to earn your laurels,--to _win_ your battle; (if you _ever noticed it_!)

"Do _you_ suppose we are going to lose all those interesting, half-broken sentences, and all those pretty little blunders you make when we come near you? If you only _knew_ how interesting it was for us to see the color rush to your forehead, at such times, or to see you look _so_ 'triste' when some old maid comes in to spend the evening, and you have to leave your little Paradise to go _creeping_ home with her! or to see you manoeuvre one whole evening with a diplomacy (deserving a reward) for a seat next to us! Goodness gracious! I tell you 'faint hearts' _never win anything else_ but 'fair ladies!'"