doubt if that stag is really pretty."

"The stag? Well, now, I've always thought it tasty--one of the features
of our little place."

"No one would mistake it for a real deer. It looks to me almost
comical."

Babcock turned to regard judicially the object of her criticism.

"I like it," he said somewhat mournfully, as though he were puzzled.
"But if you don't, we'll change the stag for something else. I wish you
to be pleased first of all. Instead we might have a fountain; two
children under an umbrella I saw the other day. It was cute. How does
that strike you?"

"I can't tell without seeing it. And, Lewis, promise me that you won't
select anything new of that sort until I have looked at it."

"Very well," Babcock answered submissively. But he continued to look
puzzled. In his estimate of his wife's superiority to himself in the
subtleties of life, it had never occurred to him to include the choice
of every-day objects of art. He had eyes and could judge for himself
like any other American citizen. Still, he was only too glad to humor
Selma in such an unimportant matter, especially as he was eager for her
happiness.



CHAPTER IV.