Part 20 (1/2)
”I might; you said, only the other day, that I sometimes displayed almost human intelligence!”
The professor liked to have his jokes remembered; but still he seemed inclined to temporise.
”I might say that we couldn't afford it. It is generally conceded that Alma Mater is not a munificent provider.”
”Yes; and you might say that my great-grandfather was not an East India trader--only you don't tell fibs.”
”Or that a sun-dial is an anachronism.”
”You are too good a Latin scholar for that.”
”So a subterfuge won't do? Very well; then you'll have to put up with a psychological proposition.”
”How interesting!”
The professor glanced at the expectant young face turned toward him, and he could not but admit that his estimate of its owner's intelligence had been well within the truth.
”You think a sun-dial would make it the prettiest garden in Dunbridge?”
”I'm sure it would.”
”And that is what you are aiming at?”
”Yes.”
”Now, I have noticed that when you have got what you are aiming at you lose interest in it.”
”O Papa!”
”There was tennis,” he went on, marking off the list on a combative forefinger, ”and cookery; there was the Polyglot Club, and the Sketching Club, and----”
”But, Papa! They were every one of them good things, and I got a lot out of them; truly, I did.”
”No doubt; but as soon as you could play tennis, or sketch a pine tree, or toss an omelette a little better than the other girls, you had squeezed your orange dry.”
”But, Papa! I've stuck to gardening for more than two years!” Olivia's tone seemed to give those years the dignity of centuries.
”True; but you haven't got your sun-dial. You will consider that the finis.h.i.+ng touch, and then before we know it you will be wanting to turn the whole thing into a sand-garden for the little micks at the Corners.”
”Not such a bad idea,” Olivia admitted unguardedly.
”There you are! The mere mention of a new scheme is enough to set you agog!”
But this was not their first fencing match, and Olivia had learned to parry.
”I thought you believed in people being open-minded,” she ventured demurely.
”And so I do; but not so open-minded that for every new idea that comes in an old one goes out.”
”Oh, the sun-dial hasn't got away yet,” she laughed, springing to her feet and going over to the court-end of the garden, where she placed herself in the exact centre of the converging rose-beds.