"Why, to get his cowl, of course."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Mabel, clapping her hands.
"He—he——" the author stammered, and again the other lent a friendly tongue to say:
"Ignatius returned to the monastery at once. And what should he discover there but The Soldier, seated in the chair of office, presiding at the council. But, see here, old chap, perhaps you had better finish your own story yourself?"
"Sir!" cried the author, springing to his feet. "I detect your perfidy, and I call this about the shabbiest trick one gentleman ever attempted to play upon another. I shall not hesitate to denounce you far and wide as one capable of the smallest meanness!"
"That is what The Almoner told The Soldier," Mr. Hopworthy explained to Mabel, in a whisper, but the other, becoming almost violent, went on:
"You are unfit, sir, to associate with people of refinement, and, when I meet you alone, it will give me a lively satisfaction to repeat the observation!"
"That is what The Soldier replied to The Almoner," Mr. Hopworthy again explained. But the other gentleman had lifted his hat, and was moving rapidly toward the striped tent, where ices were to be had.
"I shall never forgive him for leaving the story unfinished," announced the lady of the bench. "And, don't you think his manner toward the end was rather strange?"