“I wish Horace had known you.”

“Would it have been nice?”

“He might have written an ode Ad Margaritam instead of Ad Lalagem.”

“Then I might have been able to read it,” she said.  “In school I couldn’t read the other one.  But you mustn’t think that I did not read a great deal of Latin.  The professor used to say that I read my Latin b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l-l-y, but that I didn’t get much English out of it.  I told him I got as much English out of it as the Romans did, and that they certainly ought to have known what it was meant for.”

“That must have taught him a lesson!”

“Oh, he said I’d do:  I was called the girl who read Latin perfectly, regardless of English.  And, then, I won a prize for an essay on the three most important things that the United States has contributed to the civilizations of the Old World.  I said they were tobacco, wild turkeys and idle curiosity.  Of course every one knew about tobacco and turkeys; but wasn’t it clever of me to think of idle curiosity?  Now, wasn’t it?  I made a long list of things and then I selected these from my list.”

“I’d like to know what the other things were!”

“Oh, I’ve forgotten now!  But they were very important at the time.  Are you coming to my ball?”

“I hope to come.”

“And is Miss Anna coming?”

“Miss Anna is coming.  She is coming as a man; and she is going to bring a lady.”

“How is she going to dress as a man?” said Marguerite, as she danced away from him under her parasol.

She strolled slowly on until she reached the street of justice and the jail; turning into this, she passed up the side opposite the law offices.  Her parasol rested far back on one shoulder; to any lateral observer there could have been no mistake regarding the face in front of it.  She passed through a group of firemen sitting in their shirtsleeves in front of the engine-house, disappeared around the corner, and went to a confectioner’s.  Presently she reentered the street, and this time walked along the side where the law offices were grouped.  She disappeared around the corner and entered a dry-goods store.  A few moments later she reentered the street for the third and last time.  Just as she passed a certain law office, she dropped her packages.  No one came out to pick them up.  Marguerite did this herself—­very slowly.  Still no one appeared.  She gave three sharp little raps on the woodwork of the door.

From the rear office a red head was thrust suddenly out like a surprised woodpecker’s.  Barbee hurried to the entrance and looked up the street.  He saw a good many people.  He looked down the street and noticed a parasol moving away.

“I supposed you were in the courthouse,” she said, glancing at him with surprise.  “Haven’t you any cases?”

“One,” he answered, “a case of life and death.”

“You need not walk against me, Barbee; I am not a vine to need propping.  And you need not walk with me.  I am quite used to walking alone:  my nurse taught me years ago.”