“Yes, I should think it would be delightful,” King replied, rather absent-mindedly.  “It’s a long journey, a very long journey.  I should think it would be too long a journey for Mr. Meigs—­at his time of life.”

It was not a fortunate remark, and still it might be; for who could tell whether Irene would not be flattered by this declaration of his jealousy of Mr. Meigs.  But she passed it over as not serious, with the remark that the going did not seem to be beyond the strength of her father.

The introduction of Mr. Meigs in the guise of an accepted family friend and traveling companion chilled King and cast a gloom over the landscape.  Afterwards he knew that he ought to have dashed in and scattered this encompassing network of Meigs, disregarded the girl’s fence of reserve, and avowed his love.  More women are won by a single charge at the right moment than by a whole campaign of strategy.

On the way back to the hotel he was absorbed in thought, and he burst into the room where Forbes was touching up one of his sketches, with a fully-formed plan.  “Old fellow, what do you say to going to Virginia?”

Forbes put in a few deliberate touches, moving his head from side to side, and with aggravating slowness said, “What do you want to go to Virginia for?”

“Why White Sulphur, of course; the most characteristic watering-place in America.  See the whole Southern life there in August; and there’s the Natural Bridge.”

“I’ve seen pictures of the Natural Bridge.  I don’t know as I care much” (still contemplating the sketch from different points of view, and softly whistling) “for the whole of Southern life.”

“See here, Forbes, you must have some deep design to make you take that attitude.”

“Deep design!” replied Forbes, facing round.  “I’ll be hanged if I see what you are driving at.  I thought it was Saratoga and Richfield, and mild things of that sort.”

“And the little Lamont.  I know we talked of going there with her and her uncle; but we can go there afterwards.  I tell you what I’ll do:  I’ll go to Richfield, and stay till snow comes, if you will take a dip with me down into Virginia first.  You ought to do it for your art.  It’s something new, picturesque—­negroes, Southern belles, old-time manners.  You cannot afford to neglect it.”

“I don’t see the fun of being yanked all over the United States in the middle of August.”

“You want shaking up.  You’ve been drawing seashores with one figure in them till your pictures all look like—­well, like Lamont and water.”

“That’s better,” Forbes retorted, “than Benson and gruel.”

And the two got into a huff.  The artist took his sketch-book and went outdoors, and King went to his room to study the guide-books and the map of Virginia.  The result was that when the friends met for dinner, King said: 

“I thought you might do it for me, old boy.”