"Pardon me, but there is a pantheism——"
"Philosophy still?" exclaimed Franco, coming in with the little one in his arms.
"Oh, misery!" grumbled Uncle Piero behind him.
Maria held a beautiful white rose in her hand. "Look at this rose, Luisa," said Franco. "Maria, give Mamma the flower. Look at the shape of this rose, its pose, its shading, the veins in its petals; look at that red stripe, and inhale its perfume. Now drop philosophy."
"You are an enemy of philosophy?" the Professor said, smiling.
"I am a friend of that simple and sure philosophy which even roses can teach me," Franco answered.
"Philosophy, my dear Professor," Uncle Piero put in solemnly, "is all contained in Aristotle. You can get all you want from that source."
"You are jesting," the Professor said, "but you yourself are a philosopher."
The engineer placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Listen, dear friend! My philosophy could all be put into eight or ten glasses."