Part 16 (2/2)

I had no answer to this fanciful speech, and made none. Instead, I told him of Giddings's love-sickness.

”The philosophy of Iago has broken down,” said he, ”and the boy is sort of short-circuited. Antonia can take him in hand, and turn him out full of confidence; and with that, I'll answer for the lady. That can be fixed easy, and ought to be. Let's walk back.”

”What was it he said?” he asked, as we parted. ”'Coma, cold forms, still hands, and extinction.' Well, if the dervish-dance does wind up in that sort of thing, it's only a short-cut to the inevitable. Those are pretty houses up there; we'd have been astounded over them when we used to fish together on Beaver Creek;--but suppose they are?

”'They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep; And Bahram, that great hunter--the Wild a.s.s Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep!'

Good-night, Al!”

CHAPTER XV.

Some Affairs of the Heart Considered in their Relation to Dollars and Cents.

Antonia was sitting in a hammock. Josie and Alice were not far away watching Cecil Barr-Smith, who was wading into the lake to get water-lilies for them, contrary to the ordinances of the city of Lattimore in such cases made and provided. The six were dawdling away our time one fine Sunday in Lynhurst Park. I forgot to say Mr. Elkins and myself were discussing affairs of state with Miss Hinckley.

”He's such a ninny,” said Antonia.

”Aren't all people when in his forlorn condition?” asked Jim.

Antonia looked away at the clouds, and did not reply.

”But if he had a morsel of the cynical philosophy he boasts of,” said she, ”he could see.”

”I don't know about that,” said Jim lazily, looking over at the other group; ”a woman can conceal her feelings in such a case pretty completely.”

”I don't know about that,” echoed Antonia. ”I wish I did; it would simplify things.”

”I believe,” said I, ”that it's a simple enough matter for you to solve and manage as it is.”

”But it's so absurd to bother with!” said she; ”and what's the use?”

”Doesn't it seem that way?” said Jim. ”And yet you know we brought him here for a definite purpose; and in his present state he can't make good. Just read his editorial this morning: it would add gloom to the proceedings, read at a funeral. We want things whooped up, and he wants to whoop 'em; but long screeds on 'The Sacred Right of Self-destruction'

hurt things, and bring the paper into disrepute, and crowd out optimistic matter that we desire. And as long as both families want the thing brought about, and there is good reason to think that Laura will not prove eternally immovable, I take it to be an important enough matter, from the standpoint of dollars and cents, for the exercise of our diplomacy.”

”Well, then,” said Antonia, ”get the people together on some social occasion, and we'll try.”

”I've thought,” said Jim, ”of having a house-warming--as soon as the weather gets so that the very name of the function won't keep folks away. My house is practically done, you know.”

”Just the thing,” said Antonia. ”There are cosy nooks and deep retreats enough to make it a sort of labyrinth for the ensnaring of our victims.”

”Isn't it a queer thing in language,” said Jim, ”that these retreats are the places where advances are made!”

”Not when you consider,” said Antonia, ”that retreats follow repulses.”

”We ought to have the Captain and the General here, if this military conversation is to continue,” said I. ”And here comes Cecil. Stop before he comes, or we shall never get through with the explanation of the jokes.”

<script>