Arms and the Woman

"It cannot be avoided," I said gravely. "I do not expect to remain

long in London. When my work is done perhaps I shall travel and

complete my foreign polish."

"Oh, yes!" said Phyllis. "I forgot to tell you, Ethel, that a fortune

has been left to Jack, and he need not work but for the love of it."

I laughed, but they thought it a self-conscious laugh. Somehow I was

not equal to the task of enlightening them.

"It is jolly to be rich," said Ethel, clicking her skates together.

"It's a bother at times, however, to know what to do with the money. I

buy so many things I do not need just because I feel compelled to spend

my allowance."

"It must be very inconvenient," I observed.

"And now that you are a man of leisure," said Phyllis, "you will write

that book you have always been telling me about?"

"Do you wish it?" I asked.

"I do. What I have always found lacking in you is application. You

start out to accomplish something, you find an obstacle in your path

and you do not surmount it; you do not persevere."

My pulse beat quickly. Was there a double meaning to what she said? I

could not tell, for her eyes remained averted.

I sighed. "It would be nice to become a successful author, but when a

man is as rich as I am fame tarnishes." I took out an envelope from my

pocket.

"What is that?" asked Phyllis.

I turned over the back and showed it to her.

"Figures!" she laughed. "What do they mean?"

"It is what I am going to do with my fortune," said I. I was holding

out my vanity at arm's length and laughing at it silently.

"Your air castles will be realized now," said Phyllis.

"I shall build no more," said I. "The last one gave me a very bad

fall."

Phyllis looked away again. A vague perfume from her hair wafted past

my nostrils, and for a space I was overwhelmed with sadness. Soon I

discerned Mr. Holland speeding toward us.

"I shall not see you again," I said, "so I'll bid you good-bye now. If

you should chance to come abroad this summer, do not fail to look me

up."

"Good luck to you," said Ethel, shaking my hand. "You must bring home

a Princess or a Duchess." Then she moved off a way, thoughtfully.