The Place of Honeymoons - Page 64/123

Harrigan declared that he would not go over to Caxley-Webster's to tea.

"But I've promised for you!" expostulated his wife. "And he admires you

so."

"Bosh! You women can gad about as much as you please, but I'm in wrong

when it comes to eating sponge-cake and knuckling my knees under a dinky

willow table. And then he always has some frump...."

"Frump!" repeated Nora, delighted.

"Frump inspecting me through a pair of eye-glasses as if I was a new kind

of an animal. It's all right, Molly, when there's a big push. They don't

notice me much then. But these six by eight parties have me covering."

"Very well, dad," agreed Nora, who saw the storm gathering in her mother's

eyes. "You can stay home and read the book mother got you yesterday. Where

are you now?"

"Page one," grinning.

Mrs. Harrigan wisely refrained from continuing the debate. James had made

up his mind not to go. If the colonel repeated his invitation to dinner,

where there would be only the men folk, why, he'd gladly enough go to

that.

The women departed at three, for there was to be tennis until five

o'clock. When Harrigan was reasonably sure that they were half the

distance to the colonel's villa, he put on his hat, whistled to the

dachel, and together they took the path to the village.

"We'd look fine drinking tea, wouldn't we, old scout?" reaching down and

tweaking the dog's velvet ears. "They don't understand, and it's no use

trying to make 'em. Nora gets as near as possible. Herr Rosen! Now, where

have I seen his phiz before? I wish I had a real man to talk to. Abbott

sulks half the time, and the Barone can't get a joke unless it's driven in

with a mallet. On your way, old scout, or I'll step on you. Let's see if

we can hoof it down to the village at a trot without taking the count."

He had but two errands to execute. The first was accomplished expeditely

in the little tobacconist's shop under the arcade, where the purchase of a

box of Minghetti cigars promised later solace. These cigars were cheap,

but Harrigan had a novel way of adding to their strength if not to their

aroma. He possessed a meerschaum cigar-holder, in which he had smoked

perfectos for some years. The smoke of an ordinary cigar became that of a

regalia by the time it passed through the nicotine-soaked clay into the

amber mouthpiece. He had kept secret the result of this trifling

scientific research. It wouldn't have been politic to disclose it to

Molly. The second errand took time and deliberation. He studied the long

shelves of Tauchnitz. Having red corpuscles in superabundance, he

naturally preferred them in his literature, in the same quantity.