“Yes, or the principal street of Athens—I forget the name of it, must have been a good deal cleaner than State street,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin. “I don’t suppose, however, that the carving of statues could have made much dirt, and really the ancient Greeks seem to have done little else.”
“At any rate their system of civic organization was—dear me, what was it? I had it all written down on the back of an invitation to dinner, and I must have lost it as I came along,” wailed the president. “Oh, dear, what shall I do?”
“Never mind, you can tell us what you remember,” said the girl with the Roman nose, soothingly. “None of us know enough about it to detect the fact if you are wrong.”
“It isn’t that; I’ve got it all at home in the old school book I copied it from. But, as I say, it was on the back of an invitation to dinner, and I can’t remember whether it was for next Tuesday or Thursday!”
“Goodness me, that is really serious,” said the girl with the dimple in her chin; “but perhaps Tom will remember.”
“Tom remember the date of an invitation to dinner! How little you know about men. Why, he would tell me the wrong day, if he did remember, just to escape putting on his dress coat and going with me.”
“Humph! from what Helen says, you may be thankful that he goes at all. Her husband does not. She says—”
“Helen didn’t manage him properly at first, that’s all. When Tom first began to declare he wouldn’t go to dinners, I would just say, ‘Very well, dear, we’ll both remain at home, and tell our would-be hostess the true reason why we didn’t come. And now, I often reap the benefit of that Spartan policy. Of course, he is sometimes detained at the office by important business, or even called off by a telegram just as we are about to start. However, I always remember that he is only human after all, and seldom revenge myself in any other way than by telling him that Mr. Troolygood sat next me at table. Life will be a much more complicated affair for me if that dear fellow ever takes it into his head to marry.”
“I think you are perfectly safe for some time to come, dear,” said the girl with the classic profile, “his married sister, with whom he lives, is anxious for him to marry. She has the habit of inviting any girl he seems to admire, so constantly to the house that she soon loses all her charm for him.”
“No man likes courtship made easy,” said the girl with the Roman nose. “Mr. Troolygood will surely die a bachelor unless he succeeds some day in unearthing a girl whom his sister dislikes. That is hardly probable, either, since he invariably admires a girl with money—a habit, by the way, which I have also noticed in other young clergymen.”