seem to have it on the brain."

"Because it's the most tragical thing in the world, and the
commonest in our transition state," I retorted. I was somewhat
exasperated to have my romance treated as so stale a situation,
though I was conscious now that it did want perfect novelty. "It's
precisely for that reason that I like to break my heart over it. I
see it every summer, and it keeps me in a passion of pity.
Something ought to be done about it."

"Well, don't YOU try to do anything, Basil, unless you write to the
newspapers."

"I suppose," I said, "that if the newspapers could be got to take
hold of it, perhaps something might be done." The notion amused me;
I went on to play with it, and imagined Saratoga, by a joint effort
of the leading journals, recolonised with the social life that once
made it the paradise of young people.

"I have been writing to the children," said my wife, "and telling
them to stay on at York Harbour if the Herricks want them so much.
They would hate it here. You say the girl looked cross. I can't
exactly imagine a cross goddess."

"There were lots of cross goddesses," I said rather crossly myself;
for I saw that, after having trodden my romance in the dust, she was
willing I should pick it up again and shake it off, and I wished to
show her that I was not to be so lightly appeased.

"Perhaps I was thinking of angels," she murmured.