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Updated: June 9, 2025
"What day is this?" asked Dunham. "Friday," said Staniford, rummaging his portfolio. "Have you been in Venice?" "Look here, Dunham! If you begin in that way, I can't talk to you. It shows that you're still out of your head. How could I have been in Venice?" "But Miss Blood; the Aroostook " "Miss Blood went to Venice with her uncle last Saturday. The Aroostook is here in Trieste.
"And you wouldn't like to go back to earth to South Bradfield again?" he asked presently. "No," she answered. "All that seems over forever. I couldn't go back there and be what I was. I could have stayed there, but I couldn't go back." Staniford laughed. "I see that it isn't the other world that's got hold of you! It's this world! I don't believe you'll be unhappy in Italy.
"Smell that!" he said, and frowned as darkly as a man of so little eyebrow could. At this senseless defiance Staniford, in spite of himself, broke into another laugh, and even Captain Jenness grinned. Mr. Watterson sat with his head drawn as far back as possible, and with his nose wrinkled at the affront offered it.
Dunham and Staniford exchanged not so much a glance as a consciousness in regard to him, which seemed to recognize and class him. They talked to each other, and sometimes to the captain. Once they spoke to Lydia. Mr. Dunham, for example, said, "Miss ah Blood, don't you think we are uncommonly fortunate in having such lovely weather for a start-off?" "I don't know," said Lydia. Mr.
They may sheep-ranch, too, for all I know, no, that's in Old Virginia. The trouble is that the Virginias, otherwise irreproachable, are not paying fields for such enterprises. They say that one is a sure thing in California, and the other is a sure thing in Colorado. They give you the figures." Staniford lit another cigar. "But why shouldn't you stay where you are, Staniford?
But I don't like to look forward. It scares me. I can't form any idea of it." "You needn't be afraid," said Staniford. "It's only more beautiful than anything you can imagine." "Yes yes; I know," Lydia answered. "And do you really dread getting there?" "Yes, I dread it," she said. "Why," returned Staniford lightly, "so do I; but it's for a different reason, I'm afraid.
One day I'm the one, and the next day I'm the other." Lydia looked mystified, and Staniford continued: "I mean that I have no profession, and that sometimes I think of going into farming, out West." "Yes?" said Lydia. "How should I like it? Give me an opinion, Miss Blood." "Oh, I don't know," answered the girl. "You would never have dreamt that I was a farmer, would you?"
"Oh, yes," said Staniford, gravely. "Most women, I believe, are so innocent as to think a man in love when he behaves like a lover. And this one," he added ruefully, "seems more than commonly ignorant of our ways, of our infernal shilly-shallying, purposeless no-mindedness.
Dunham regretted, as he had often regretted before, that his friend had no fixed religious belief; and Staniford gently accepted his solicitude, and said that he had at least a conviction if not a creed. He then begged Dunham's pardon in set terms for trying to wound his feelings the day before; and in the silent hand-clasp that followed they renewed all the cordiality of their friendship.
He had heard of the game of shuffle-board, that blind and dumb croquet, with which the jaded passengers on the steamers appease their terrible leisure, and with the help of the ship's carpenter he organized this pastime, and played it with her hour after hour, while Staniford looked on and smoked in grave observance, and Hicks lurked at a distance, till Dunham felt it on his kind heart and tender conscience to invite him to a share in the diversion.
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