"It pays, it pays!" smiled The Author. "I draw from life."
"Nature-fakir!" Alicia mocked.
"My dear fellow, _I_ draw. _You_ draw and quarter," said Morenas.
The Author flung out his arms, grandiloquently.
You may as well try to change the course
Of yonder sun
To north, and south,
As to try to subdue by criticism
This heart of verse,
Or close this mouth!
he cried, thumping his chest. "Come on, Johnson: let's leave these
knockers to fate--and Miss Martha Hopkins!"
Miss Martha Hopkins came, she saw, and she had a perfectly beautiful
time. As a matter of fact, everybody that could come, did come. And
the very smartest and prettiest of the younger set served tea. Oh,
yes, decidedly the tables were turning!
Despite which, Alicia and I were not happy. It seemed to me that a
veil had fallen between us, for we were shy with each other. Both
suffered, and each dreaded that the other should know.
I was grateful that The Author's mind was too taken up with Hynds
House history to focus itself upon us. The Author spent his spare
hours rummaging through such dusty and musty records as might throw
some light upon the Hyndses.
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