Like untried youth I was unconscious of limitations. That, if Nance wanted it, I could not make money enough to buy the place, never occurred to my dreaming brain.
"It would be really wicked, I suppose, to wish they would go on and get sick," she said, "but I do think they might have you in now and then for a little friendly, advisory chat about their rheumatism, rose-bushes, and the like, that they might learn how interesting you are."
Since I have had some years in which to think of this episode, I feel that there must have been a trifle of irony in her remark. At the time it appeared serious enough.
"Never mind, Nance," I replied, "my collection of friendships is sufficiently large at present. Anyhow, just think of a statement of account like this:
"To Dr. Charles Reubelt King Dr.
Miss Jemimiah Appleblossom, Cr.
| April 27, to one half-hour's chat on rose-bushes | $10.00 |
| December 2, to fifteen minutes' conversation upon weather | 5.00 |
| Same date, one hour's rheumatism talk | 15.00 |
| Total | $30.00 |
| Please remit." |
"Well, it is all right, Charles, my friend. It will come, and meanwhile we can wait for the time.... Monsieur l'Abbé once said to me, 'Blessed are the makers of dreams, for theirs is to own a river, divers trees, many hills, even a village, and their abode shall be a house in the heart.'"
In my memory I call that the day of faith.
"Let's go over and sit upon the portico," I suggested. It met with her approval, and a few moments later we were beneath our beloved old pillars.
"I wonder where he is?" she asked.