After dinner Mr. Mayhew asked Van Berg to light a cigar with him in his study, but the artist declined and followed Ida to the parlor.
"Mr. Van Berg," she said, with a great show of surprise, "how is it you don't smoke this evening? It seemed to me that you and Cousin Ik were drawn to a certain corner of Mr. Burleigh's piazza with the certainty of gravitation after dinner, and then you were lost in the clouds."
"On this occasion I have taken my choice of pleasures and have followed you."
"This is a proud moment for me," she said, with a mirthful twinkle in her eyes. "I never expected to rival a gentleman's cigar, and I don't think I ever did before."
"Another proof of my friendship, Miss Ida."
"Yes," she replied demurely, "an act like this goes a good way towards making me believe you are sincere."
"Miss Ida, you are always laughing at me. I wish I could find some way to get even with you, and I will too."
"You do me injustice. I, in turn, will lay an offering on the altar of friendship and will go with you this evening to the concert garden."
"I think you exceedingly, but will leave the offering on the altar, if you will permit me. I would much rather remain in your parlor."
"Why, Mr. Van Berg, you are bent on being a martyr for my sake this evening."