going to hurt you. Besides, I’m not. And, anyway, who are you to judge me? You’re not here as a judge; you’re an augur. Now, go on and aug.” 

 “Aug?” repeated the other hesitantly. 

 “Certainly. Do an augury. Tell me which.” 

 “Oh! As for that, it’s easy. None.” 

 “Why not?” 

 “Because I much prefer to think of you, when you are gone, as unmarried. It’s more in character with your voice.” 

 “Well, of all the selfish pigs! Condemned to be an old maid, in order not to spoil an ideal! Perhaps you’d like to enter the lists yourself,” she taunted. 

 “Good Heavens, no!” he cried in the most unflattering alarm. “It isn’t in my line—I mean I haven’t time for that sort of thing. I’m a very busy man.” 

 “You look it! Or you did look it, scrambling about like a doodle bug after your absurd spectacles.” 

 “There is no such insect as a doodle bug.” 

 “Isn’t there? How do you know? Are you personally acquainted with all the insect families?” 

 “Certainly. That’s my business. I’m a scientist.” 

 “Oh, gracious! And I’ve appealed to you in a matter of sentiment! I might better have stuck to Fitz. Poor Fitz! I wonder if he’s lost.” 

 “Why should he be lost?” 

 “Because I lost him. Back there on the trail. Purposely. I sent him for water and then—I skipped.” 

 “Oh-h-h! Then he’s the goose.” 

 “Goose! Preston Fairfax Fitz—” 

 “Yes, the goose you said ‘Boo!’ to, you know.” 

 “Of course. You didn’t steal his hat, did you?” 

 Prev. P 10/148 next