Part 39 (1/2)
”What are you smiling at?”
”At the a.s.sertion that you cannot tolerate idolatry.”
”Well? Of all the men in New York, probably I am the most thoroughly an iconoclast.”
”Yes, sir, of other people's G.o.ds; nevertheless, I think you wors.h.i.+p ardently.”
”Indeed! Have you recently joined the 'Microscopical Society'? I solicit the benefit of your discoveries, and shall be duly grateful if you will graciously point out the unknown fane wherein I secretly wors.h.i.+p. Is it Beauty? Genius? Riches?”
”It is not done in secret. All the world knows that Mr. Palma imitates the example of Marcus Marcellus, and dedicates his life to two divinities.”
Standing on either side of the gate, and each pressing a hand upon the slab of the mantle, the lawyer looked curiously down at the bright young face.
”You are quite fresh in foraging from historic fields,--and since I quitted the cla.s.sic shade of Alma Mater I have had little leisure for Roman lore; but college memories suggest that it was to Honour and Valour that Marcellus erected the splendid double temple at the Capene Gate. I bow to your parallel, and gratefully appreciate your ingeniously delicate compliment.”
He laughed sarcastically as he interpreted the protest very legible in her clear honest eyes, and waited a moment for her to disclaim the flattery. But she was silently smiling up at her mother's face.
”Does my very observant ward approve of my homage to the Roman deities?”
”Are your favourite divinities those before whom Marcellus bent his knee?”
Very steadily her large eyes, blue as the border of a clematis, were turned to meet his, and involuntarily he took his under lip between his glittering teeth.
”My testimony would not be admissible before the bar, at which I have been arraigned. Since you have explored the Holy of Holies, be so kind as to describe what you find.”
”You might consider me presumptuous, possibly impertinent.”
”At least I may safely promise not to express any such opinion. What is there, think you, that Erle Palma wors.h.i.+ps?”
”A statue of Ambition that stands in the vestibule of the temple of Fame.”
”Olga told you that.”
”Oh no, sir! Have not I lived here a year?”
His eyes sparkled, and a proud smile curled his lips.
”Do I offer sacrifices?”
”I think you would, if they were required.”
”Suppose my stone G.o.d demanded my heart?”
”Ah, sir! you know you gave it to him long ago.”
He laughed quite genially, and his whole face softened, warmed.
”At least let us hope my ambition is not sordid; is unstained with the dross of avarice. It is a stern G.o.d, and I shall not deny that 'Ephraim is joined to his idols! Let him alone.'”
A short silence followed, during which his thoughts wandered far from the precincts of that quiet room.