‘Hang up Philosophy!
Unless Philosophy can make a Juliet!’ etc., etc.
That’s the kind of thing you women like! The learning of the ages, the equipoise of the mind, the balance and calm reasoning powers of the brain, these all go for nothing—”
“In an attack of the gout?” she suggested.
He laughed and loosed his hold of her little white chin.
“Dry your eyes!” he said, masterfully. “I’m not dead yet! And in our instructive walk of to-day I have discovered one thing,—that you would be rather sorry if I were! That’s curious! And not altogether unpleasing! Now I wonder why—”
“And I wonder,” she interrupted, quickly, “whether you would be sorry if—”
“Now, now! Take care!” he exclaimed. “There are certain subjects I will not have mentioned—subjects which you women love to harp upon! I know exactly what you are going to say. Would I be sorry if you were resolved into your original exquisite atoms of matter? Yes—I should be sorry, because there would be a blank—” Here he suddenly stopped in his walk and looked up at the fair sky with its fleecy clouds lazily sailing along the blue. “There would be a decided blank,” he repeated slowly, “where there is just now a very great centre of interest—a subject for study and—er—contemplation—and—er—considerable entertainment!”
Their glances met, but flashed away from each other instantly,—and they continued their walk through the fields, leaving the buttercups and daisies in a glistening trail of gold and silver behind them as they passed.
CHAPTER III
“I CANNOT understand,” said Jack, irritably; “no, I cannot for my life understand what you see in him!”