Arms and the Woman

The red squirrel in the branches above me looked wisely. He was

wondering how long before the green burrs would parch and give him

their brown chestnuts. I was contemplating a metaphysical burr. I

wanted to remain true to Phyllis, though there wasn't any sense in my

doing so. Had Gretchen resembled any one but Phyllis I never should

have been in such a predicament. I should have gone away the day after

my arrival. Here I was going into my second week. My assistant in

London was probably worrying, having heard nothing from me during that

time. As matters stood it was evident that I could not be true either

to Phyllis or Gretchen, since I did not know positively which I loved.

I knew that I loved one. So much was gained. I wanted to throw up a

coin, heads for Phyllis, tails for Gretchen, but I couldn't bring

myself to gamble on the matter. I threw a stick at his squirrelship,

and he scurried into the hole in the crotch of the tree. A moment

later he peered at me, and, seeing that nothing was going to follow the

stick, crept out on the limb again, his tail bristling with indignation.

"If it hadn't been for Gretchen," said I, "you would have been a potpie

long ago."

He must have understood my impotence, for he winked at me jeeringly.

A steamer came along then, puffing importantly, sending a wash almost

at my feet. I followed it with my eye till it became lost around the

bend. Over there was Austria and beyond, the Orient, a new world to me.

"If I could see them together!" I mused aloud.

The squirrel cocked his head to one side as if to ask: "Austria and

Turkey?"

"No," said I, looking around for another stick; "Phyllis and Gretchen.

If I could see them together, you know, I could tell positively then

which I love. As it is, I'm in doubt. Do you understand?"

The squirrel ran out to the end of the limb and sat down. It was an

act of deliberation.

"Well, why don't you answer?"

I was startled to my feet by the laughter which followed my question.

A few yards behind me stood Gretchen.

"Can't you find a better confidant?" she asked, "Yes, but she will not be my confidant," said I. I wondered how much

she had heard of the one-sided dialogue. "Will you answer the question

I just put to that squirrel of yours?"

"And what was the question?" with innocence not feigned.