THE NATIONAL SUNDAY MAGAZINE
5
s'Sa IBs
WOMAN
X
Making Two Hearts Beat ,A 0M
AM A WOMAN' twenty-six years old
And 1 am married. It will lie granted
therefore that 1 am in some position
to speak about eaeh of the three words
which compose my text to say notli
injr of the dash after Woman.
A moment ago 1 was looking at my-
selt in the mirror, and I marvelled at
my innocent look. By the side of my
dressing table is a photograph of eight girls in stun
ning hats and gowns. These were my bridesmaids,
and when 1 looked at them 1 marvelled at their in
nocent looks. On the other side of the mirror is n
photograph of my husband, Fred, How stern he
looks! How commanding! How full of purpose!
1 would laugh, but Fred might hear me, and if he
guessed the reason of my laughter it would spoil the
innocent effect.
I have just finished reading an article "Should
Women Propose" Is it necessary to say it was
written by a man? Perhaps it would surprise him
lo know that, with a few unimportant exceptions, the
woman always proposes. Should Woman Propose,
indeed! In the name of the prophet: Figs!
Of course it's the man who finally mumbles or mur
murs the words, but it's the woman who has to put
the question first in bis heart, and then in bis mind,
and then on his lips. How does she do it ? Or better
yet, perhaps, in the racy speech of the day, how does
she work it 7
That is precisely what 1 am about to tell, and to
show my good faith I am going to give my own ex
periences first. My married masculine readers may
bo interested to see the methods unfolded which
brought them to the point. To the married women
this article will be like a comparison of notes on the
most interesting subject in the world. My young
unmarried male readers may as well know bow they
will presently be caught. And as for the girls whose
engagement lingers are still unadorned. I feel sure
that many will live to bless me for the bints herein
contained.
How did 1 lead the first man to propose to me?
It was absurdly simple.
It happened in that primary school for proposals:
the summer resort. 1 never stooped to a summer re
sort proposal after that. It's too much like stealing
the ribbons from baby's bonnet. Put I was out for
practice, and I got it. Moreover, I might have got a
husband if he had been the right man. Put I didn't
want my first proposal to ''take." So I purposely
picked a man who wasn't the right one.
YFS, everything was pre-arranged, even to the
phrasing of the gentle but firm rejection. 1 chose
a summer resort where there was plenty of boating
and the first thing I did was to rent a boat for the
season and arrange that I should keep the oars in my
room at the boarding house. Oh, 1 was perfectly
enthusiastic on the subject of boating
Put wait. Perhaps some of my readers are won
dering why I didn't go in for canoeing. A paddle is
so much lighter and canoeing is so much more ro
mantic. True, but let me whisper something else.
A canoe is no place for sentiment. It's too wobbly,
and if the man is impulsive, the water is too wet. Of
course it's very exciting to be saved from drowning,
but what if the man can't swim? All things con
sidered, a boat is much to be preferred as the misr
en scene for a proposal.
Very well. After lunch ono dav I went to my
room and waited until one of tho most eligible
young men was sitting in the hummock on the
lawn. So then I tripped downstairs, carrying tho
oars over my shoulder, and when I strolled by him
I naturally gave
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'(ioiug rowing?" he said. Shyly I nodded in
head. Of course then ho insisted on carrying the
oars. What else could he do And tho first thing
he knew he was rowing me up tho river.
"Isn't it a beautiful view!" be said once. "It must
look lovely by moonlight," 1 told him. And did be
take the hint He engulfed it any young man
would. Put we bad a week of dark nights before
the moon began to shine again, and in that week we
grew to know each other very well.
And then came the nigbl of my llrst proposal. 1
was three hours dressing for it. and another half hour
choosing the wrap which he was to drape around iu
shoulders at the proper moment. When we reached
the boat I placed this wrap in the bow and took tn
usual seat in the stern. It may sound like a simple
thing but nearly all the great facts of life are simple
things like that.
Moonlight water ripples distant music- a
summer night a girl and a man. 1 let the com
hinatiou work on him for half an hour, and by thai
time he bad reached the point where nothing else in
the world mattered. Then I shiveied a little with the
cold, and turning, he snatched up my wrap with such
concern that he nearly upset us. I leaned forward
so that he could arrange it around my shoulders, out
faces were very close, our bands touched, he tried to
kiss me, I wouldn't have it, and then of course I
received my first proposal.
HKAHTLHSS? Who says so 7 Who else could pos
sibly say so but a man ! And when a man calls a
woman heartless, every thoughtful woman turn a
tew pages of her memory, ami begins to laugh.
My second proposal, I will admit, makes me just
a little ashamed of myself, because I played upon a
man's sympathetic nature. It was a delicate little
comedy 'all the way through, but it was valuable lie
cause it taught me that I had the proposal situation
well in hand.
One Sunday afternoon when .loe called, 1 had a
headache. He had a gentle, soothing manner, and
a voice to match. So 1 received him, thinking he
might be able to make me forget my headache, .loe
looked so tenderly sympathetic that an imp of mis
chief whispered to me ".Make him propose! .Just
the thing for curing headaches!"
I was lying on a sofa with my smelling salts,
cologne anil handkerchief. As the first step 1 placed
the scent-moisteiied handkerchief upon my forehead
and let it slip oil' when 1 snilTcd the smelling sails,
.loe picked the handkerchief up. Again I put it on
my forehead, again it slipped and again .loe picked
it up. The third time it happened he drew his chair
close to the sofa and gently held the handkerchief
in place.
Py then he was taking a deep, personal interest in
mo, 'and I knew there were only three logical slops
between me and a proposal.
As the first logical stop, my hand Muttered out for
the cologne. It fluttered near Joe, anil .loe held it.
Taking the second logical step, I closed my eyes. This
time it was Joe's turn to do the logical stepping. He
kissed me (somowheie near the oar) and proposed.
Dear Joe, he surprised himself, and I fear ho foil
relieved when 1 gently told him "No." Put at least
it cured my headache, and showed me that I was
proficient in the art of proposing.
I was just twenty when I made my husband pro
pose. And like my 'first two trials, it was ridiculously
easy. I simply noticed tho things that pleased him
most, and guided myself accordingly. Me fore I had
known him a fortnight I knew 1 had two accomplish
ments which charmed him more than anything else
I did. My taking long strides, I could keep in stop
with him when ho
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