"That is just the fear which disturbs my heart, as I am about to cross the border-line and go back to the common-place world," sighed Percy, when the applause which succeeded the recitation died away. "I doubt my ability to enjoy anything, after this delightful experience."
"Well, now," said Homer Orton, "in response to the encore I ought to have received, I will give you a few verses appropriate to that situation, my dear fellow. If you commit them to memory, they may serve to help you in those dark hours of mental and spiritual pain which come to every man—the morning after the club supper. They are called—
PENALTY.
Because of the fullness of what I had,
All that I have seems poor and vain.
From the ripe perfection of what was mine,
All that is mine seems worse than naught;
Yet I know, as I sit in the dark, and pine,
No cup could be drained which had not been fraught.
From the throb and thrill of a day that was,
The day that now is seems dull with gloom;
Yet I bear the dullness and darkness, because
'Tis but the reaction of glow and bloom.
From the royal feast that of old was spread,
I am starved on the diet that now is mine;
Yet, I could not turn hungry from water and bread,
If I had not been sated on fruit and wine."
"Speaking of Bohemia," Dolores said, "with all its charms, I do not believe I am a Bohemian by nature. I am really fond of ceremonies and imposing forms. I enjoy the most impressive services in divine worship. Had I been reared in the Roman Church, I would have made one of its most devout members. I like conventional life, but I do not like the people I meet in those circles."
"And yet," Percy answered, "it is generally supposed that in exclusive circles one finds all that is choice."