“I never signed a treaty, sir, and, consequently, keep no records.”

“Clinton, there is a chronic casus belli between us, the original spring of which antedates my memory.  But at present, Estelle is directing all her genius and energy to effect, for my individual benefit, a practical reenactment of the old Papia Poppoea, which Augustus hurled at the heads of all peaceful, happy bachelordom!”

For the first time during the conversation Edna glanced up at Estelle, for, much as she disliked her, she regretted this thrust; but her pity was utterly wasted, and she was surprised to find her countenance calm and smiling.

Mr. Allston shrugged his shoulders, and Mrs. Murray exclaimed: 

“I sound a truce!  For heaven’s sake, St. Elmo, lock up your learning with your mummies, and when you will say barbarous things, use language that will enable us to understand that we are being snubbed.  Now, who do you suppose comprehends ‘Papia Poppasa?’ You are insufferably pedantic!”

“My dear mother, do you remember ever to have read or heard the celebrated reply of a certain urbane lexicographer to the rashly ambitious individual who attempted to find fault with his dictionary?  Permit me, most respectfully, to offer it for your consideration.  ’I am bound to furnish good definitions, but not brains to comprehend them.’”

“I think, sir, that it is a very great misfortune for those who have to associate with you now that you were not raised in Sparta, where it was everybody’s privilege to whip their neighbor’s vicious, spoiled children.  Such a regimen would doubtless have converted you into an amiable, or at least endurable member of society.”

Miss Harding tapped his hand with her fan.

“That is problematical, my fair cousin, for if my provocative playmate had accompanied me, I’ll be sworn but I think the supply of Spartan birch would have utterly failed to sweeten my temper.  I should have shared the fate of those unfortunate boys who were whipped to death in Lacedaemon, in honor of Diana; said whipping-festival (I here remark parenthetically, for my mother’s enjoyment) being known in classic parlance as Diamastigosis!”

Her mother answered laughingly: 

“Estelle is quite right; you contrived to grow up without the necessary healthful quota of sound whipping which you richly deserved.”

Mr. Murray did not seem to hear her words; he was looking down intently, smiling into his cousin’s handsome face, and, passing his arm around her waist, drew her close to his side.  He murmured something that made her throw her head quickly back against his shoulder and look up at him.

“If such is the end of all your quarrels, it offers a premium for unamiability,” said Mr. Allston, who had been studying Edna’s face, and now turned again to his cousin.  Curling the end of his moustache, he continued: 

“St. Elmo, you have travelled more extensively than any one I know, and under peculiarly favorable circumstances.  Of all the spots you have visited, which would you pronounce the most desirable for a permanent residence?”