Isham Frederic Stewart - Nothing But the Truth стр 11.

Ha! ha! laughed the bishop. Did some one ask him what he thought of judges?

But the judge did not laugh. His frown was awful.

Or was it about the recall? Or the relation of judges and corporations?

The judge looked stern as Jove. Ass! he muttered.

Maybe hes a progressive, returned the bishop. The world seems to be changing. Ought we to change with it, I wonder?

I dont, snapped the judge. If the world to-day is producing such fatuous blockheads, give me the world as it was.

The trouble is, said the bishop, again rubbing his nose, can we get it back? Hasnt it left us behind and are we ever going to catch up?

Fudge! said the judge. He and the bishop were such old friends, he could take that liberty.

Another of the sterner sex one of Mrs. Ralstons guests looked as if he, too, could have said: Fudge! His lips fairly curled when he regarded Bob. He specialized as a vivisectionist, and he was a great authority. Now Bob loved the under-dog and was naturally kind and sympathetic. He had been blessed or cursed with a very tender heart for such a compact, well-put-up, six foot or so compound of hard-headed masculinity. Miss Dolly imp of mischief again rather forced the talk. It must be wonderful to cut things up and juggle with hind legs and kidneys and brains and mix them all up with different animals, until a poor little cat didnt know if it had a dogs brain or its own? And was it true that sometimes the dogs me-owed, and when a cat started to purr did it wag its tail instead? This was all right from Miss Dolly, but when the conversation expanded and Bob was appealed to, it was different. Wouldnt you just love to mix up the different parts? asked Miss Dolly, and put a rabbits leg on a pussy, just to watch its expression of surprise when it started to run and found itself only able to jump, or half-jump? That got honest Bob who couldnt have carved up a poor dumb beast, to save his life fairly involved, and before he had staggered from that conversational morass, he had offended Authority about two dozen times. Indeed, Authority openly turned its back on him. Authority found Bob impossible.

These are fair samples of a few of his experiences. And all the while he had an uneasy presentiment that Mrs. Dan and Mrs. Clarence were waiting to get him and have their innings. Now, Mrs. Dan would bestow upon him a too sweet smile between games of tennis; then Mrs. Clarence would drift casually in his direction, but something would happen that would prevent a heart-to-heart duologue, and she would as casually drift away again. These hit-and-miss tactics, however, gradually got on Bobs nerves, and in consequence, he who was usually a star and a cracker jack at the game, played abominable tennis that afternoon thus enhancing his unpopularity with divers partners who simply couldnt understand why he had fallen off so. Indeed, about every one he came in contact with was profoundly dissatisfied or disgusted with Bob. Miss Gerald, who usually played with him, now firmly but unostentatiously, avoided him, and though Bob couldnt blame her, of course, still the fact did not tend to mitigate his melancholy.

How different in the past!  that glorious, never-to-be-forgotten past! Then he had inwardly reveled and rejoiced in her lithe movements for with all her stateliness and proud carriage, she was like a young panther for grace. Now as luckless Bob played with some one else, a tantalizing college ditty floated through his brain: I wonder whos kissing her now?

Of course, no one was. She wasnt that kind. Though some one, some day, would! It was in the natural order of things bound to occur, and Bob, in fancy, saw those disdainful red lips, with some one hovering over, as he swung at a white ball and sent it well, not where he should have.

You are playing very badly, partner, a reproving voice reminded him.

Bob muttered something. Confound that frivolous haunting song! He would dismiss the dire and absurd possibility. Some one else was with her, though, and that was sufficiently poignant. There were several of the fellows tremendously smitten in that quarter. Fine, husky athletic chaps, too! Some of them quite expert at wooing, no doubt, for devotees of house-parties become educated and acquire finesse. They dont have to tell the truth all the time, but on the contrary, are privileged to prevaricate in the most artistic manner. They can gaze into beautiful eyes and swear that they have never before, and so on. They can perform prodigies of prevarication and get away with them. Bob played now even worse than before.

The sun got low at last, however, and wearily he retired to his room, to change his garments for dinner. Incidentally, he surveyed himself in the mirror with haunting earnestness of gaze. Had he grown perceptibly older? He thought he could detect a few lines of care on his erstwhile unsullied brow, and with a sigh, he turned away to array himself in the customary black or glad rags which seemed now, however, but the habiliments of woe. Then he descended to receive a new shock; he found out that Mrs. Ralston had assigned Mrs. Dan to him, to take in to dinner. Drearily Bob wondered if it were mere chance that he had drawn Mrs. Dan for a dinner prize, or if Mrs. Dan herself had somehow brought about that, to her, desired consummation. As he gave Mrs. Dan his arm he saw Mrs. Clarence exchange glances with the commodores good lady. Mrs. Ralston went in with the monocle man.

CHAPTER VI DINNER

Mrs. Dan dallied with Bob, displaying all the artifices of an old campaigner. Of course, she had no idea how easy it might be for her to learn all she wanted to. She could not know he was like a barrel or puncheon of information and that all she had to do was to pull the plug and let information flow out. She regarded Bob more in the light of a safety vault; the bishops interruption had put him on his guard and she would have to get through those massive outer-doors of his reserve, before she could force the many smaller doors to various boxes full of startling facts.

It was a fine tableful of people, of which they were a part. Wealth, beauty, brains and brawn were all there. An orchestra played somewhere. Being paid performers you didnt see them and as distance lends enchantment to music, on most occasions, the result was admirable. Delicate orchids everywhere charmed with their hues without exuding that too obtrusive perfume of commoner flowers. Mrs. Ralston was an orchid enthusiast and down on the Amazon she kept an orchid-hunter who, whenever he found a new variety, sent her a cable.

So Mrs. Dan started on orchids with Bob. She hadnt the slightest interest in orchids, but she displayed a simulated interest that sounded almost like real interest. Mrs. Dan hadnt practised on society, or had society practise on her, all these years for nothing. She could get that simulated-interested tone going without any effort. But Bobs attention wandered, and he gazed toward Miss Gerald who occupied a place quite a distance from him.

Mrs. Dan, failing to interest Bob on orchids, now took another tack. She sailed a conversational course on caviar. Men usually like things to eat, and to talk about them, especially such caviar as this. But Bob eyed the almost priceless Malasol as if it were composed of plain, ordinary fish-eggs. He didnt even enthuse when he took a sip of Moselle that matched the Malasol and had more bouquet than the flowers. So Mrs. Dan, again altering her conversational course, sailed merrily before the wind amid the breeze of general topics and gay light persiflage. She was at her best now. There wasnt anything she didnt know something about. She talked plays, operas and amusements which gradually led her up to roof gardens. She took her time, though, before laying the bowsprit of her desires straight in the real direction she wished to go. She knew she could proceed cautiously and circumspectly, that there was no need for hurry; the meal would be fairly prolonged. Mrs. Ralstons dinners were elaborate affairs; there might even be a few professional entertainment features between courses.