“Yes,” I growled, rather ill-naturedly, “I suppose I should be thankful that I haven’t the smallpox, or the yellow fever, or a hundred other things. Being thankful for a number of things that don’t happen to me does not make me thankful for some that have.”
He was silent for a few moments, and then said, with a smile, “I see you wish me to believe you a philosopher. How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine,” I answered.
“Have you ever been in love?” he continued, smiling broadly, and the merry twinkling of his eyes told me plainly that our business was finished.
“Never in my life,” I answered, firmly, and I never knew until that moment that I could lie so easily.
“Of course, then, you have never married and don’t know what it is to have a son of your own.”
“Hm-m-m, well,” I answered, “I’ve made several voyages to China and Japan, and it is always the custom out there to purchase a wife, if you can support her and—”
“Never mind, never mind about that,” he interrupted, quickly; “I don’t want any of your reminiscences at present. You understand what I want done with Mr. Brown, so we might as well go in and see if any one has arrived.”
I was astonished, when we neared the door of the drawing-room, to hear a great hum of voices. We had been in the conservatory only a short time, but during that interval a number of people had arrived and were seated at small tables playing euchre.
Mr. Ropesend found a place for me at a table with Mr. Brown, Miss Anderson, and Captain Crojack’s pretty niece, Miss Waters. How the evening passed I can hardly remember. I was a poor partner for Miss Waters, who kept telling me over and over again that she and her mother were going out with us to China. It was a great relief to me when some one suggested dancing, so I could get away.