The Broad Highway

"On the mantelshelf!" said she.

"What is?"

"Your pipe!"

"Thank you!" said I, and reached it down.

"What are you reading?" she inquired; "is it of Helen or Aspasia

or Phryne?"

"Neither--it is the parting of Hector and Andromache," I answered.

"Is it very interesting?"

"Yes."

"Then why do your eyes wander so often from the page?"

"I know many of the lines by heart," said I. And having lighted

my pipe, I took up the book, and once more began to read. Yet I

was conscious, all the time, of Charmian's flashing needle, also

she had begun to hum again.

And, after I had endeavored to read, and Charmian had hummed for

perhaps five minutes, I lowered my book, and, sighing, glanced

at her.

"I am trying to read, Charmian."

"So I see."

"And your humming confuses me."

"It is very quiet outside, Peter."

"But I cannot read by moonlight, Charmian."

"Then--don't read, Peter." Here she nibbled her thread with

white teeth, and held up what she had been sewing to view the

effect of a bow of riband, with her head very much on one side.

And I inwardly wondered that she should spend so much care upon

such frippery--all senseless bows and laces.

"To hum is a very disturbing habit!" said I.

"To smoke an evil-smelling pipe is worse--much worse, Peter!"

"I beg your pardon!" said I, and laid the offending object back

upon the mantel.

"Are you angry, Peter?"

"Not in the least; I am only sorry that my smoking annoyed you

--had I known before--"

"It didn't annoy me in the least!"

"But from what you said I understood--"

"No, Peter, you did not understand; you never understand, and I

don't think you ever will understand anything but your Helens and

Phrynes--and your Latin and Greek philosophies, and that is what

makes you so very annoying, and so--so quaintly original!"

"But you certainly found fault with my pipe."

"Naturally!--didn't you find fault with my humming?"

"Really," said I, "really, I fail to see--"

"Of course you do!" sighed Charmian. Whereupon there fell a

silence between us, during which she sewed industriously, and I

went forth with brave Hector to face the mighty Achilles. But

my eye had traversed barely twenty lines when: "Peter?"