“Course he didn’t!” Bruno replied, gliding head-first down the stem of the fox-glove, for the Story was evidently close to its end. “He sold his house, and he packed up his things, while the Lion were coming. And he went and he lived in another town. So the Lion ate the wrong man.”
This was evidently the Moral: so Sylvie made her final proclamation to the Frogs. “The Story’s finished! And whatever is to be learned from it,” she added, aside to me, “I’m sure I don’t know!”
I did not feel quite clear about it myself, so made no suggestion: but the Frogs seemed quite content, Moral or no Moral, and merely raised a husky chorus of “Off! Off!” as they hopped away.
CHAPTER XXV.
LOOKING EASTWARD.
“It’s just a week,” I said, three days later, to Arthur, “since we heard of Lady Muriel’s engagement. I think I ought to call, at any rate, and offer my congratulations. Won’t you come with me?”
A pained expression passed over his face. “When must you leave us?” he asked.
“By the first train on Monday.”
“Well—yes, I will come with you. It would seem strange and unfriendly if I didn’t. But this is only Friday. Give me till Sunday afternoon. I shall be stronger then.”
Shading his eyes with one hand, as if half-ashamed of the tears that were coursing down his cheeks, he held the other out to me. It trembled as I clasped it.
I tried to frame some words of sympathy; but they seemed poor and cold, and I left them unspoken. “Good night!” was all I said.