have to carry a repast of corn over the meadows to my pet abhorrences,
Rufus' swine, because he has retired to the hay-loft with a flannel rag
around his head, which means I have offended him or that father has given
him an extra absent-minded drink from the decanter that Matthew brought
him. Peckerwood Pup is at this moment, you see, chewing the strings out of
my shoes as an appetizer for her supper. How could I eat sweetbreads and
truffle, which I know Owen has already ordered, when I knew that more than
a hundred small children were at home crying for bread?"

"Ann, what is it that makes you so perfectly radiantly beautiful in that
faded linen smock and old corduroy skirt? Of course, you always were
beautiful, but now you look like--like--well, I don't know whether it is a
song I have heard or a picture I have seen." Bess leaned down and laid her
cheek against mine for a second.

"I'm going to tell you some day before long," I whispered as I kissed the
corner of her lips. "Now do take the twin fathers for a little spin up the
road and make them walk back from the gate. They have been suffering with
the Trojan warriors all day, and I know they must have exercise. Uncle
Cradd walks down for the mail each day, but father remains stationary. Your
method with them is perfect. Go take them while I supper and bed down the
farm."

"I know now the picture is by Tintoretto, and it's some place in Rome,"
Bess called back over her shoulder as she drove her car slowly around to
the front door to begin her conquest and deportation of my precious
ancients.

"Not painted by Tintoretto, but by the pagan Pan," I said to myself as I
turned into the barn door.