“It seems you are capable of traveling about in the world alone—” The nephew observed that beneath the sternness there was a twinkle of humor.
“Oh yes—very capable. I have had a dozen first class adventures. But one thing I forgot all about—and that was money. As I sit here you could not find a single coin upon me. That is the reason, dear Uncle, that I have returned to the yoke of your tyranny, in case you are disposed to fill my pockets again.”
“Very good,” replied the uncle, laughing. “But tell—were you a fool when you wrote this letter?”
“I—a fool?”
“Who is the person you took away from me—whom you pressed to your heart?”
“Couldn’t you guess? Why your pearl of pearls with which you bored your wife and me to death—nothing else.”
Hereupon he drew from his breast pocket the worn manuscript of the new science. There was a burst of laughter and the professor made a grab for the manuscript.
“Well—I seem to be the fool myself.”
He took the manuscript and flung it far out of the pavilion.
“I will not attempt again to analyze the beauties of life.”