"Then we would both lose, for I would have no earthly use for that."
"Well, I will paint what you wish, within reason."
"I'm content, and with good reason, for never did I have such absurd good luck before."
"Ha! look yonder—quick!"
Both the young men started to their feet, but before they could spring forward, the event, which had so suddenly aroused them, was an accomplished fact.
Both drew a long breath of relief as they looked at each other, and Van Berg remarked, with some emphasis:
"Act first, scene first, and it does not open like a comedy either."
Chapter VIII. Glimpses of Tragedy.
Stanton threw away his half-burned cigar—an act which proved him strongly moved—and strode rapidly towards the main entrance near which a little group had already gathered, and among the others, Ida Mayhew. Not a hair of anybody's head was hurt, but an event had almost occurred which would have more than satisfied Stanton's spite against 'Yankee school-ma'ams,' and would also have made him very miserable for months to come.
He had ordered his bays to the farther end of the piazza where they were smoking, as he proposed to take Van Berg out for a drive. His coachmen liked to wheel around the corner of the hotel and past the main entrance in a dashing showy style, and thus far had suffered no rebuke from his master for this habit. But on this occasion a careless nursery maid, neglectful of her charge, had left a little child to toddle to the centre of the carriage drive and there it had stood, balancing itself with the uncertain footing characteristic of first steps. Even if it could have seen the rapidly approaching carriage that was hidden by the angle of the building, its baby feet could not have carried it out of harm's way in time, and it is more than probable that its inexperience would have prevented any sense of danger.