"Why, Master Lamont," said Fritz in admiration, "you were cut out for a gallant. Had you recited those lines in the drawing-room, you would have had all the ladies at your feet--supposing," he added, with a broad grin, "they had all been blind."
"Ah me!" said Pierre Lamont, throwing aside the book with a mocking sigh. "Too old--too old!"
"And shrunken," said Fritz.
"It is not to be denied, Fritz. And shrunken."
"And ugly."
"You stick daggers into me. Yes--and ugly. Ah!" and with simulated wrath he shook his fist in the air, "if I were but like my brother the Advocate! Eh, Fritz--eh?"
Fritz shook his head slowly.
"If I were not a fool, I should say I would much rather be as you are, old, and withered, and ugly, and a cripple, than be standing in the place of your brother the Advocate. And so would you, Master Lamont, for all your love-songs."
"I can teach you nothing, fool. Push the lamp a little nearer to me. Give me my waistcoat. Here is a gold piece for you. I owe you as much, I think. We will keep our own counsel, Fritz. Good-night."
"Good--night, Master Lamont. I am sorry that trial is over. It was rare fun!"