kinds of things in it. It hasn't got any--What did you say you thought
it took to write a book?"

"Ability--that is, a little of it."

"I guess that depends on the kind of book it is. I put something of
everything I could think of in mine, but I didn't put any ability in.
I didn't have any to put, and, besides, I wanted it to sell. That's
the chapter I love best." A large piece of brown paper was waved in
the air. "It's the one in which the Princess Patricia gets ready to
die because she hears her sweetheart making love to some one else, and
then she comes to her senses and makes him marry the other girl so
they can live miserable ever after, and the Princess goes about doing
good like Miss Frances. But I'm going to marry her to somebody before
I'm through--I'm--"

"You believe in marriage, then." Van Landing smiled, and, stooping,
picked up several sheets of paper evidently torn from a blank-book.
"This must be the courtship chapter. It seems rather sentimental."

"It is. Regular mush slush. It's the kind of courting a man who isn't
much does--that is, I guess it's the kind, but the Princess
understands. She's been fooled once. Tell me"--Carmencita leaned
forward and, arms again crossed on Van Landing's knees, looked
anxiously in his face--"what does a man say when he's really and truly
courting? I mean a nice man. When the Real one comes, the Right
one--what will he say? I'm just about there, and I don't know how to
go on."

"I wish I could tell you." Van Landing leaned back in his chair and,