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They could not indeed refuse the gold he offered for their services, but one never lived to enjoy the money, for her prolonged ablutions in the cause of art killed her a week after her work was done. John Barren was a lonely sybarite with a real love for Nature and absolutely primitive instincts with regard to his fellow-creatures.
And Philoinus, the Sybarite, raising his deep voice, but not allowing himself for a moment to be disturbed in his repose, remarked: "Mirth is a good thing, and if you bring that with you, be welcome to me also, Athenian." "To me," said Rhodopis, turning to her new guests, "you are heartily welcome, but not more in your joy than if borne down by sadness.
But you should know the places in winter as well as in tempting summer, when song and shade and colour attract every one to the field. You should face the mire and slippery path. Nature yields nothing to the sybarite.
The whole company, even to the Jew and the Syrian, were carried away by the intense feeling of the moment; the Sybarite alone remained unmoved, and, with his mouth so full as to render the words almost unintelligible, said: "You deserve to be a Sybarite too, Rhodopis, for your roast beef is the best I have tasted since I left Italy, and your Anthylla wine' relishes almost as well as Vesuvian or Chian!"
At the same time do not let us anticipate too suddenly, and let the reader patiently peruse a few more pages about Manilla, and various events wherein I figured, either as actor or witness, before taking leave of a sybarite citizen's life.
"You little rascal!" continued George, brandishing the envelope. "You've been cunning, you have; but I've found you out at last.... Per-ce-val!" Over the cheeks of P. Sybarite crept a delicate tint of pink. His eyes wavered and fell. He looked, and was, acutely unhappy.
"You're an easy mark," he observed in accents of deep pity. "I knew you'd think I meant it." "But didn't you, George?" "Nah nothin' like that! I was just kiddin' you along, to see how much you'd swallow." "It's all right then," agreed P. Sybarite. "Only George!" "Huh?" "Don't you breathe a word of this to Miss Lessing?" "Why not?"
Not, however, with any notion of concerning himself with the assassin's apprehension and punishment did P. Sybarite waste that moment of hasty survey. His eyes were only keen and eager to descry the yellow Western Union message; and when he had looked everywhere else, his glance dropped to his feet and found it there a torn and crumpled envelope with its enclosure flattened out and apart from it.
P. Sybarite complained "and not two minutes ago I warned you about that habit. Wait: I've had time only to run an eye through this: let me get the sense of it." Peter peering over his shoulder, the two conned the message in silence: BAYARD SHAYNON Monastery Apts., W. 43rd, N.Y.C.
Call not, then, the Poet whom we place amidst the Varieties of Life, the sybarite of literary ease, if, returning on Summer eves, Helen's light footstep by his musing side, he greets his sequestered home, with its trellised flowers smiling out from amidst the lonely cliffs in which it is embedded; while lovers still, though wedded long, they turn to each other, with such deep joy in their speaking eyes, grateful that the world, with its various distractions and noisy conflicts, lies so far from their actual existence, only united to them by the happy link that the writer weaves invisibly with the hearts that he moves and the souls that he inspires.
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