youth.

"No. I never yet saw the woman who could make my heart beat any
faster."

"I don't know what you young men are made of nowadays," growled
his father. "I was in love half a dozen times before I was your
age."

"You might have been 'in love.' But you never LOVED any woman
until you met my mother. I know that, father. And it didn't
happen till you were pretty well on in life either."

"You're too hard to please. That's what's the matter, that's
what's the matter!"

"Perhaps I am. When a man has had a mother like mine his
standard of womanly sweetness is apt to be pitched pretty high.
Let's drop the subject, father. Here, I want you to read this
letter--it's from Larry."

"Humph!" grunted Mr. Marshall, when he had finished with it. "So
Larry's knocked out at last--always thought he would be--always
expected it. Sorry, too. He was a decent fellow. Well, are you
going?"

"Yes, I think so, if you don't object."

"You'll have a pretty monotonous time of it, judging from his
account of Lindsay."