"Oh, you dear boy!" she said."What an artist you are! And how difficult it is for us commonplace, matter-of-fact people to understand the artistic temperament.Here you go, almost turning my steady old head by your rapture over what seemed to you perfection of sound which has reached you through the ear; just as, again and again, you worship at the shrine of perfection of form, which reaches you through the eye.I begin to understand how it is you turn the heads of women when you paint them.However, you are very delightful in your delight, and I want to go up to bed.So I promise to sing all you want and as much as you wish to-morrow.Now keep your promise and don't bother me any more to-night.Don't spend the whole night in the park, and try not to frighten the deer.No, I do not need any assistance with my candle, and I am quite used to going upstairs by myself, thank you.Can't you hear what personal and appropriate remarks Tommy is making down there? Now do run away, Master Garthie, and count your pearls.And if you suddenly come upon a cross--remember, the cross can, in all probability, be persuaded to return to Chicago!"Jane was still smiling as she entered her room and placed her candlestick on the dressing-table.
Overdene was lighted solely by lamps and candles.The duchess refused to modernise it by the installation of electric light.But candles abounded, and Jane, who liked a brilliant illumination, proceeded to light both candles in the branches on either side of the dressing-table mirror, and in the sconces on the wall beside the mantelpiece, and in the tall silver candlesticks upon the writing-table.Then she seated herself in a comfortable arm-chair, reached for her writing-case, took out her diary and a fountain pen, and prepared to finish the day's entry.She wrote, "SANG 'THE ROSARY' ATAUNT 'GINA'S CONCERT IN PLACE OF VELMA, FAILED (LARYNGITIS)," and came to a full stop.
Somehow the scene with Garth was difficult to record, and the sensations which still remained therefrom, absolutely unwritable.
Jane sat and pondered the situation, content to allow the page to remain blank.
Before she rose, locked her book, and prepared for rest, she had, to her own satisfaction, clearly explained the whole thing.Garth's artistic temperament was the basis of the argument; and, alas, the artistic temperament is not a very firm foundation, either for a theory, or for the fabric of a destiny.However, FAUTE DE MIEUX, Jane had to accept it as main factor in her mental adjustment, thus:
