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Now Lanigan's spirits rose; he saw that it was not on his account that Calthea was jealous of Ida Mayberry. His face put on an expression of serious interest, and he strove to speak impressively, but not so much so as to excite suspicion. "Calthea," said he, "I think you are not treating Mr. Tippengray with your usual impartiality and fairness.
"I will translate some of my Greek version of 'Pickwick' back into English, and let you see for yourself how my amber preserves the fly." "Let me do it," said Ida. "It is a long time since I read 'Pickwick, and therefore my translation will be a better test." "Capital!" cried Mr. Tippengray. "I will copy a few lines for you to-night."
Cristie's nurse-maid were sitting on a bench under the trees, reading out of the same book, while Mr. Tippengray was pushing the baby-carriage up and down on the grass, and Mrs. Cristie and Mr. Lodloe were putting up the lawn-tennis net. "I could see for myself," Mrs.
Petter had long been accustomed to look upon Calthea Rose as a person whose anger would blaze up very suddenly, but would go out quite as promptly which was true, when Miss Calthea chose to put it out but she was a little surprised that Calthea, after so recently going away in a huff, should treat Mr. Tippengray with such easy friendliness.
Tippengray very much, and of course if you really made up your mind to prefer him to anybody else, one great object would be gained, just the same as if I married him, and he would be saved from the hole those two are digging for him." "And in that case," said Mrs. Cristie, repressing a strong disposition to laugh, "what would you do?
"I will quickly make it plain to you," said the indignant scholar, and he related the conversation he had overheard. "What a shameful way to speak of you, Mr. Tippengray!" cried Mrs. Cristie. "I did not suppose that Mr. Beam would dare to say such things to one whom he knew to be your friend.
If I had not this summer-house, I should want that room; but I am afraid, however, if I had it, I should look out of the window a great deal and translate a very little." "What do you translate?" asked Lodloe, with interest. "At present," said Mr. Tippengray, "I am engaged in translating into Greek some of the standard works of our modern literature.
"My young friend," said he, "that was a noble thought, worthy of a philosopher." The boy grinned. "They generally stop when they get into a plowed field," he said. "What skeered him?" Mr. Tippengray briefly related the facts of the case, and the horse was led into the road. It was soon ascertained that no material harm had been done to harness or vehicle. "Young man," said Mr.
Quite unexpectedly they had met her in Lethbury, to which village Mr. Tippengray had not thought she would return so soon, and Lodloe almost laughed as he called to mind the beaming and even genial recognition that she gave to him, and which, at the same time, included effacement and extinction of his companion to the extent of being an admirable piece of dramatic art.
And she was doubtless going to say more, when her companion interrupted, and vowed with all possible earnestness that whatever line of life she chose should be his line; that he would gladly give up every plan and purpose, follow her in whatever direction she chose to lead, and do whatever she wished he should do. Mr. Tippengray was very uneasy.
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