“But what do you call yourself?”
“I don’t know that I ever gave two serious thoughts to it.”
“Indeed!” he exclaimed, and then moved away, taking Sunbeam and Moonbeam along with him. The antics of youth had evidently developed into the peculiarity of years, because during the remainder of the evening he watched me most attentively and persistently.
A little later I found him in earnest conversation with Virginius, in which he seemed to be trying to insist upon Virginius seeing things in the same light as himself, but the latter was listening with incredulous amusement, and left him laughing.
That night after dinner, when he and I were alone together, he began,—
“Philemon notices a strong resemblance between you and Vestasian—so strong that he persists in saying you are he.”
“Oh, Lord!” I groaned.
“What did you say?”
“I said ‘Oh, Lord!’ But by that I meant to convey the impression that it is very distasteful to be so mistaken. Surely in heaven there is peace from muddle.”
“I don’t know. You began it, so doubtless it may continue.”