“It is horrid of me to criticise your friends. And after your many-sided kindness! I feel a rude little beast.”
“If you were not frank with me about everything I should be greatly disappointed. And—I am quite willing to admit it to you—your frankness is very refreshing to me. I get very tired of all this posing and hero-worship and these everlasting fads. But they are inevitable in all circles where certain of its members have accomplished great things and others feel that their rôle is to admire extravagantly if they would keep their heads above water and feel in the swim.”
“Do you think Mr. Rolfs and Mrs. Laurence and Mr. Randolph great?” I asked pointedly. “Now, you be just as frank as I am for once.”
He hesitated a moment, then said: “I believe there is no admission I would not make to you, if you only gave me sufficient encouragement. Be careful of that mud hole—these stones are better. I do wish you would wear rubbers. Frankly then I do not think that any of my authors are great, but I think it best to convince the world that they are because they are unquestionably on the right track and their success will encourage the younger talent to follow in their footsteps, crowning the achievement of to-day with the richer harvest of a more virile generation. I am quite aware that we lack virility, but when a more full-blooded generation does arrive think of the vast advantage it will have in this skeleton example of flawless art and perfect taste.”
“It seems to me more likely that there will be a violent reaction,” I said. “That they will smash your porcelain skeleton to smithereens and build a big rude lusty giant in its place.”
“Oh, I hope not,” he said anxiously, “I hope not. That would be a life-time thrown away.”
It was the first time I had heard him sigh, and the momentary unconscious appeal to my sympathy touched me sharply.
“You have lived for something besides self!” I exclaimed. “I believe you actually have given your best energies, and all your time and much of your fortune to building up an Art in your country that future generations may be benefited by and proud of. I do hope for your sake that it will be a success.”
He turned to me with such a glow on his face that I realized I had gone too far for once, and had a wild desire to pick up my skirts and run headlong into the forest. I must say he looked handsome and most attractive. It seemed to me that I felt something glow and leap beside me, something that I never had admitted the existence of, but which gave him a distinct fascination. I could not run, and heaven knows what might have happened next. But at that moment a turn of the road brought us face to face with Mr. Nugent.
“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Oh! What a relief. I knew of course that Rogers would find you—but what might have happened before—Were you in the woods during the storm?”