Jove signified his approval.
"They have forgiven us our daily vegetables. But shall I? Will it be worth while? Well, we'll take a ride into the hills in the morning, and we'll think it all out. Mayor of Herculaneum; sounds good, doesn't it? Nothing like success, Jove."
Warrington smoked till the fire in his pipe died. He turned in, and this time he won sleep.
Early the next morning he was off on his horse, and he did not return till noon. But he had his answer.
At three that afternoon he had callers. Patty and Kate had just run over to see how the new play was getting on. Warrington confessed that he was doing only desultory work, but promised to read the scenario to them when it was done.
"You are becoming lazy," said Kate rebukingly.
"No; only a country gentleman."
"Patty, did you hear that? He calls Herculaneum a country village."
"Nothing of the sort. One may live in a city and be a countryman still."
"Mr. Warrington probably misses New York," said Patty.