“Hang me if I ever tell you anything again!” cried the lad pettishly. “Where do you keep your matches? You are always chaffing.”
“Not I,” said the other, turning himself lazily in his chair, “only I want to see you grow into a matter-of-fact man.”
“Is it a sign of manhood to grow into a Diogenes sort of fellow, who sneers at every woman he sees?” said the lad hotly.
“No, Dick, but it’s a sign of hobble-de-hoyishness to be falling in love with pretty housemaids and boarding-school girls.”
“Which I don’t do,” said the lad fiercely.
“Except when you are forming desperate attachments to well-developed ladies, who, after your stupid young heart has been pretty well frizzled in the imaginary fire cast by their eyes, turn out to be other men’s wives.”
“I declare you are unbearable, Glen,” cried the lad hotly.
“My dear Dick, you are the most refreshing little chap I ever knew,” said the other, rising. “There, put on your cap, my boy, and let’s go;” and leaving the direction of their course to his younger companion, Captain Glen found himself at last on the broad walk facing the old red-brick Palace.
“I wonder you have never seen it before.”
“So do I; but I never did. Well, old Dutch William had a very good idea of taking care of himself, that’s all I can say.”