If we are
to be abroad all the winter, he will get his mother to go wherever we
do. Suppose we went to the Holy Land, Babie!"
"Oh! then we could find Jotapata! Oh, no," she added, humbly, "I
promised Miss Ogilvie not to talk of Jotapata on a Sunday."
"And going to the Holy Land only to look for it would be much the
same thing," said Armine. "Besides, I expect it is up among the
Druses, where one can't go."
"Armie," in the tone of a great confession, "I've told Sydney all
about it. Have you told Lord Fordham?"
"No," said Armine, who was less exclusively devoted to the great
romance. "I wonder whether he would read it?"
"I've brought it. Nineteen copybooks and a dozen blank ones, though
it was so hard to make Delrio pack them up."
"Hurrah for the new ones! We did so want some for the 'Traveller's
Joy,' the paper at Leukerbad was so bad. You should hear the verses
the Doctor wrote on the mud baths. They are as stunning as 'Fly
Leaves.' Mr. Editor, I say," as Lord Fordham's tall figure strode
towards them, "she has brought out a dozen clean copybooks. Isn't
that a joy for the 'Joy'?"
"Had you no other intentions for them?" said Fordham, detecting
something of disappointment in Babie's face. "You surely were not
going to write exercises in them?"
"Oh, no!" said Babie, "only-—"
"She can't mention it on Sunday," said Armine, a little wickedly.
Pages:
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489