Jack and I were alone in the nursery, and I seated myself wearily in the rocking-chair, holding the uneasy baby on my lap.
"What did you do that for, Clarissa?" he growled, kicking violently with his expressive legs. "I was in for the time of my life--this life, I mean--and you deliberately snatched me from that lovely girl's arms and practically drove her from the room. Do you not realize that you have been very cruel, my dear? Surely you can't be ignorant of the fact that I lead a very colorless life. Suddenly the tiresome humdrum of my existence is broken by a chance for a perfectly harmless flirtation. Do you rejoice at your little baby's momentary relief from ennui? Not at all; you treat me with the most tyrannical harshness, grudging me the slightest change in the horrible monotony of this infernal nursery. What's that girl's name?"
"Gwendolen Van Voorhees," I murmured. "She's Tom's cousin."
"She called herself Cousin Gwen and expressed the hope that I might always love her," mused Jack, gazing with eyes too old for his face at his dimpled, restless fists. "I don't like Tom, Clarissa, but his cousin does him credit. I shall always love her. No, don't rock, my dear. I don't want to go to sleep. If you don't mind, Clarissa, I should like to lie very quiet and think about Gwendolen. Isn't it a beautiful name? I'm sorry my name's Horatio. Don't rock, not even a little bit. I'm very nervous, am I not? I'd give half a dozen slips and my silver rattlebox for a smoke, Clarissa. Do you think that a cigarette would hurt me?"
"You remember, Jack, that cocktails didn't agree with you," I argued, soothingly. "I'm sure that tobacco would be very bad for you."
"Of course you are," grumbled the baby, resuming his impatient gestures with his legs. "You think that everything worth having is bad for me, Clarissa. I suppose that you intend to cut me off entirely from Cousin Gwen?"
"Don't be unreasonable, Jack," I implored him. "Gwen can come here just as often as she cares to. But you must realize, Jack, that I have no confidence left in your veracity or discretion. You don't keep your promises to me and you seem to have no realization of the terrible results that might come from a discovery of your identity."
"Is this a curtain-lecture, Clarissa?" growled Jack. "I tell you flatly, my dear, that I can't stand much more. I've about reached the limit of my self-control. There's a deadly dullness to this kind of a life that is slowly driving your sweet 'ittle baby-boy, Cousin Gwen's caramel and marshmallow, to desperation."
"But what can you do, Jack?" I asked, frightened by the peculiar tones in his voice. "My role is as hard to play as yours, is it not? We must both be brave and circumspect, my dear."
"Bah!" exclaimed the baby, rudely, clutching at my chin with his absurd little hands. "You may rock a little now, Clarissa, very gently. Perhaps I could get a nap if you'd stop scolding me for a few moments."