this same arrogant interloper." Perry was silent, but when I paused
and looked at him, I saw in his face that I was arguing along the right
line. "Then the question arises, what shall I do?"

Perry nodded.

"What would you do?" he said. "That's it exact."

"I'd meet him at his own game," I answered.

"With what?" he asked.

"With what?" I repeated.

There was the rub! With what? I sat with my head clasped between my
hands trying to answer him.

"With what?" I repeated, after a long silence.

"S'posin' I got her a wreath." Perry offered the suggestion, and in
his enthusiasm he forgot that in our premise I was the person
concerned; but I was not loath to let him take on himself the burden of
our perplexity.

"Is she dead?" I asked.

"I needn't get one of that kind," he solemnly replied. "Somethin' in
autumn leaves ought to be nice."

"You might do better."