She bathed her eyes,tried to think how she could spend the intervening hours before they would meet again.Then with a sense of dismay she began to consider,"If we are to meet so often what are we to talk about?He once tried to converse with me and found me so ignorant he couldn't.It seemed to me I didn't know anything that evening,and he'll soon grow disgusted with me again as he sees my poor little pack of knowledge is like a tramp's bundle that he carries around with him.I must read--I must study every moment,or I haven't the remotest chance of success.Success!Oh,merciful heaven!it's the same as if I were setting about it all deliberately and there's no use of deceiving myself.I hope it isn't very,very wrong."She went to her father's library with flushed cheeks and hesitating steps,as if it were the tree from which she might pluck the fruit of forbidden knowledge.The long rows of ponderous and neglected books appalled her;she took down two or three and they seemed like unopened mines,deep and rocky.She felt instinctively that there was not time for her to transmute their ores into graceful and natural mental adornments.
"Methuselah himself couldn't read them all,"she exclaimed."By the powers!if here isn't more books than I can carry,on one subject.
I suppose cartloads have been written about art.I've no doubt he's read them all,but I never can;I fear my attempt to read up is like trying to get strong by eating a whole ox at once.Oh,why did I waste my school-days,and indeed all my life as I have!"and she stamped her foot in her impatience and irritation.
"Well,"she sighed at last,with a grim sort of humor;"I must do the best I can.It's the same as if I were on a desert island.Imust tie together some sort of a raft in order to cross the gulf that separates us,for I never can stand it to stay here alone.
Since I have not time to spare I may as well commence with that encyclopaedia,and learn a little about as many things as possible;then if he introduces a subject he shall at least see that I know what he is talking about."And during the afternoon the poor girl plodded through sever articles,often recalling her wandering thoughts by impatient little gestures,and by the time her father returned she was conscious of knowing a very little indeed about a number of things."No matter,"she thought,compressing her lips,"I won't give up till I must.It's my one chance for happiness in this world,and I'll cling to it while there is a shred of hope left."It was with an eager and resolute face that she confronted her father that evening,as they sat down to dinner.He thought she would descant on her experiences of the morning,and he was anxious for a chance to say how truly he appreciated Mr.Van Berg's cordial manner,but she surprised him by asking abruptly:
"Father,when do we elect another president?"He told her,and then followed a rapid fire of questions about the general and state government,and the names and characters of the men who held the chief offices.At last Mr.Mayhew laid down his knife and fork in his astonishment,and asked sententiously:
"How long is it since you decided to go into politics?"Ida's laugh was very reassuring,and she said,"Poor father!Idon't wonder you think I've lost my wits,now that I'm trying to use the few I have.Don't you see?I don't know anything that's worth knowing.I wasted my time at school,for my head was full of beaux,dress,and nonsense.Besides,I don't think my teachers took much pains to make me understand anything.At any rate,my dancing-master,and perhaps my music-teacher--a little bit--are the only ones that have any reason to be proud of the result.Now I want you to brush up your ideas about everything,so you can answer the endless questions I am going to ask you.""Why bless you,child,you take away my breath.Rome wasn't built in a day.""The way they built Rome will never answer for me.I must grow like one of our Western cities that has a mayor and opera-house almost before the Indians and wolves are driven out of town.Speaking of Rome reminds me how little I know of that city,and it's a burning shame,too,for I spent a month there.""Well,"said Mr.Mayhew,with kindling interest,"suppose we take up a course of reading about Rome for the winter.""For the winter!That won't do at all.Can't you tell me something of interest about Rome this evening?""I've already mentioned the interesting fact--that it wasn't built in a day.I think that's the most important thing that you need to know about Rome and everything else this evening.Why,Ida,you can't become wise as an ostrich makes its supper--by swallowing everything that comes in its way.You are not a bit like an ostrich.""An ostrich is a silly bird that puts its head under the sand and thins its whole great body hidden because it can't see itself,isn't it,father?""I've heard that story told of it,"replied Mr.Mayhew,laughing.
"Anything but an ostrich,then.Come,I'll read the evening paper to you on condition you tell me the leading questions of the day.
What is just now the leading question of the day?""Well,"said Mr.Mayhew,demurely,but with a sparkle of humor in his eye,"one of the leading questions of this day with me has been whether Mr.Van Berg would not enjoy dining with us to-morrow evening now that he is here alone in the city?"Ida instantly held the newspaper before her crimson face and said:
