There was no vulgar profusion in the dinner which Ida had ordered,nor were its courses interminable;and as she gracefully and quietly directed everything,the thought would keep insinuating itself in Van Berg's mind,that the home over which she might eventually preside would be a near suburb of Paradise.He heartily seconded Ida's purpose that her father should take part in their conversation,and it was another deep source of her gladness that the one whom she had seen so depressed and despairing,now looked as she would always wish him to appear."Oh,it's too good to last,"she sighed,as her heart fairly ached with its excess of joy.
After dinner Mr.Mayhew asked Van Berg to light a cigar with him in his study,but the artist declined and followed Ida to the parlor.
"Mr.Van Berg,"she said,with a great show of surprise,"how is it you don't smoke this evening?It seemed to me that you and Cousin Ik were drawn to a certain corner of Mr.Burleigh's piazza with the certainty of gravitation after dinner,and then you were lost in the clouds.""On this occasion I have taken my choice of pleasures and have followed you.""This is a proud moment for me,"she said,with a mirthful twinkle in her eyes."I never expected to rival a gentleman's cigar,and I don't think I ever did before.""Another proof of my friendship,Miss Ida.""Yes,"she replied demurely,"an act like this goes a good way towards making me believe you are sincere.""Miss Ida,you are always laughing at me.I wish I could find some way to get even with you,and I will too.""You do me injustice.I,in turn,will lay an offering on the altar of friendship and will go with you this evening to the concert garden.""I think you exceedingly,but will leave the offering on the altar,if you will permit me.I would much rather remain in your parlor.""Why,Mr.Van Berg,you are bent on being a martyr for my sake this evening.""Yes,wholly bent upon it."
"How amiable gentlemen are after dinner!"she exclaimed."But where was your appetite this evening?Clearly our cook knows nothing of the preparation of ambrosia nor I of nectar,although I made the coffee myself.""Did you?That accounts for its divine flavor.Don't you remember I took two cups?""I saw that your politeness led you to send me your cup a second time.I suppose you accomplished a vast deal again to-day after you were once finally rid of an embodiment of April weather?""I would lose your respect altogether if I should tell you how Ihave spent the afternoon.You would think me an absurd jumble of moods and tenses.I may as well own up,I suppose.I have done nothing but kill time,and to that end I took a walk through Central Park.""This hot afternoon!Mr.Van Berg,what possessed you?""A demon of impatience.It seemed as if old Joshua had commanded the sun to stand still again.""You must indeed by a genius,Mr.Van Berg,for I've always heard that the peculiarly gifted were full of unaccountable moods.""I understand the satire of your expression 'PECULIARLY gifted,'but my turn will come before the evening is over,"and he leaned luxuriously back against the sofa cushion with a look of infinite content with the prospect before him."Bless me,what is this over which I have half broken my back,"he exclaimed,and he dragged out of its partial concealment a huge volume.
"Please let me take that out of your way,"said Ida,stepping hastily forward with crimson cheeks.
"Don't trouble yourself,Miss Mayhew;fortune is favoring me once more,and I am on the point of discovering the favorite author you would not mention this morning.An encyclopedia,as I live!from A to B,with a hair-pin inserted sharply at the word Amsterdam.
Really,Miss Ida,I can't account for your absorbing interest in Amsterdam.""Mr.Van Berg,there is no use in trying to hide anything from you.
You find me out every time and I'm really growing superstitious about it.""I wish your words were true;but,for the life of me,I can't understand why you should crave encyclopaedias as August reading,nor can I see the remotest connection between the exquisite color of your face and the old Dutch city of Amsterdam.""Well,the Fates are against me once more.Why I left that book there I don't know,for I'm not usually so careless.Mr.Van Berg,I scarcely need to remind you of a fact that you discovered long ago--I don't know anything.Do you not remember how you tried to talk with me one evening?You touched on almost as many subjects as that huge volume contains,and my face remained as vacant through them all as the blank pages in that book before the printed matter begins.""But now,Miss Ida,your face is to me like this book after the printed matter begins,only I read there that which interests me far more than anything which this bulky tome contains,even under the word Amsterdam.""You imagine far more than you see.I think artists are like poets,and are given to great flights.Besides,you are becoming versed in my small talk.When you tried it on the evening I referred to,you were just a trifle ponderous.""Yes,I can now see myself performing like a lame elephant.Did you propose to read this encyclopaedia entirely through?""I might have skipped art as a subject far too deep for me.""When you come to that let me take the place of the encyclopaedia.
I will sit just here where you keep your book and give you a series of familiar lectures.""I never enjoyed being lectured,sir!"
