"Oh, you've no idea how tired he grew of flannel and ginger-beer! Many a time he's said to me, 'My boy, learn to take what's set before you, even at an alderman's table.' Ah, his was a generous creed, Miss Wallingford!"
"Yes, I suppose it was," said Julia submissively.
His advantage in being able to claim an intimate personal knowledge of the late philosopher's tastes encouraged the Count greatly. Realizing that a nephew could not well be contradicted, he was emboldened to ask whether there were any more points on which his authority could be of assistance.
"Oh yes," said she, "only--only somehow you seem to throw a different light on everything."
"Naturally, dear," chimed in Miss Minchell, "a personal explanation always makes things seem different."
Julia sighed, but summed up her courage to read out--" 'When woman is prized according to her intellect and man according to his virtue; oh, then mankind will return to Eden!' "
"That," said he, "is one of the rare instances of my uncle's pessimism."
"Of his pessimism! How can you say that?"
"He meant to imply that mankind would have to wait for some considerable time. But do not feel dismayed.
My own opinion is that so long as woman is fair and man has the wit to appreciate her, we ARE in Eden."
The gracious tone in which he delivered this dictum, and the moving smile that accompanied it, appeared to atone completely for his relative's cynical philosophy.
With a smile and a sigh Julia murmured--"Do you really think so?"
"I do," said the Count fervently; "and now suppose we were to have a little music?"
"Oh yes!" cried Miss Minchell; "do you perform, Count Bunker?"
"I sometimes sing a little to the guitar."
"To the guitar!" said Julia. "How delicious!
Have you brought it?"
"I have been so bold," he smiled, and promptly went to fetch this instrument.
In a few minutes he returned with an apologetic air.
"I find that by some error they have sent me away with a banjo instead," he exclaimed. "But I dare say I could manage an accompaniment on that if you would condescend to listen to me."
He felt so exceedingly disinclined for expounding a philosophy any longer that he gave them no time to dissent, even had they wished to, but on the instant struck up that pathetic ditty--"Down by whar de beans grow blue."
And no sooner had he finished it than (barely waiting for his meed of applause) he further regaled them with--"Twould make a fellow Turn green and yellow!
Finally, as a tit-bit, he contributed--"When hubby s gone to Brighton, And I ve sent the cook to bed, Oh who's that a-knocking on the window!"
At the conclusion of this concert he knew not whether to feel more relieved or chagrined to observe that his fair hostess had her eyes fixed upon the clock. Thanking him with a slightly embarrassed air, she threw a pointed glance at Miss Minchell, and the two ladies rose.
"I am afraid you will think we keep very early hours," she began.
"It is one of the best rules in my uncle's philosophy," he interposed.
Yet though glad enough to have come so triumphantly to the end of his ordeal, he could not bring himself to let his charming disciple leave him in a wounded or even disappointed mood. As soon as Miss Minchell had passed through the door he quietly laid his hand upon Julia's arm, and with a gesture beckoned her back into the room.
"Pardon my seeming levity, Miss Wallingford," he said in a grave and gentle voice, "but you know not what emotions I had to contend with! I thank you for your charming sympathy, and I beg you to accept in my uncle's name that salute by which his followers distinguish the faithful."
And he thereupon kissed the blushing girl with a heartiness that restored her confidence in him completely.
"Well," he said to himself as he retired with his candle, "I've managed to get a fair penn'orth out of it after all."
