"You have my sympathy, Mr. Cardington," she returned, "not so much because you have lost the bet, as because you were under the necessity of ending your sentence with such an insignificant word. I saw that you were groping for a polysyllabic finish." She was in the best of spirits, and prepared for the exchange of quibbles in which they sometimes indulged.
"But my finish is best expressed by just that abrupt and insignificant monosyllable!" he cried, his solemnity swept away by a mood of extravagant banter. "Now, you know, since we have elected a professional baseball player to the mayor's office, I foresee great possibilities unfolding in municipal affairs. I rather anticipate that the city fathers will seek recreation from their arduous labours by indulging in an occasional game of ball in the park. I hope to have the pleasure of applauding our respected mayor as he walks up to the plate as of yore and knocks out a home run. Not a bad idea, bishop, is it?" For Bishop Wycliffe had entered the room quietly and stood behind his daughter, listening to the speech with a wide, appreciative smile.
"It is extremely probable," he now answered. "I shall be surprised if some such innovation is not introduced. And why not? Tempera mutantur, my friend. We have a President who so far forgets the traditions of his office as to beguile his spare moments by whacking the heads of his friends in a game of singlestick. Why not a mayor who plays baseball in the park? What an old fogy you are, Cardington!"
"Old!" Cardington echoed ruefully. "My dear bishop! And you baptised my infant head after you came to your Episcopal office!"
"Ah, but I was young then," the bishop retorted, "or I should never have assumed that responsibility."
They were still laughing at this sally when the maid appeared in the door to announce that dinner was served. Seeing a late caller, she hesitated, and Cardington broke in.
"I must go now," he announced. "Remember, Miss Felicity, not to overdo the matter of eating sweetmeats. There would be a certain unnecessary redundancy in such an indulgence, a carrying of coals to Newcastle, so to speak."
"No, you must stay to dinner," she urged, "and afterward smoke one of father's cigars to solace you for the loss of the box you might have had if the election had gone the other way."
"Might have had!" he retorted. "You mean would have had. I hope there was no doubt of your intention to pay your honest debts."
"Come," the bishop interrupted, taking him by the arm and marching him away, "enough of these quibbles. You must stay, of course."