"Dear me!" I cried. "How did they ever come to think of such a clever
thing?"

"_Omne ign[)o]tum pro magnifico_," he replied, with condescension.

I could not bear the false quantity even from _his_ lips, and I asked,
"Would not _ign[=o]tum_ be better, darling?"

I could have bitten out my tongue for such an indiscretion. He looked
at me sharply, with a glance of covert distrust.

"What do _you_ know about it?" he asked, somewhat brusquely.

"Nothing, nothing!" I said, confusedly. "I happened to be looking
through an Explanatory Pronouncing Dictionary of Latin Quotations, and
found the passage."

"Beware of consulting text-books," he returned, sententiously. "A
little knowledge is a dangerous thing."

For the moment I was safe, but I knew that the confidence that
hitherto had existed between us was shaken and lessened. When he left
me that day, he referred once more to the incident.

"Forgive me, SCHOLASTICA, I know I have been disagreeable. But I
confess I am upset--the fact is a man doesn't care to be picked up
sharp in his Latin."

"Forgive me!" I pleaded, "and you will love me?"