and something too much, of women."

"This is not a woman!" declared Philip with heat and eagerness, "at
least not the sort of woman _I_ have ever known! This is a forest-
empress, sea-goddess, or sun-angel! I don't know WHAT she is, upon
my life!"

Lorimer regarded him with an air of reproachful offense.

"Don't go on--please don't!" he implored. "I can't stand it--I
really can't! Incipient verse-mania is too much for me. Forest-
empress, sea-goddess, sun-angel--by Jove! what next? You are
evidently in a very bad way. If I remember rightly, you had a flask
of that old green Chartreuse with you. Ah! that accounts for it!
Nice stuff, but a little too strong."

Errington laughed, and, unabashed by his friend's raillery,
proceeded to relate with much vivacity and graphic fervor the
occurrences of the morning. Lorimer listened patiently with a
forbearing smile on his open, ruddy countenance. When he had heard
everything he looked up and inquired calmly--

"This is not a yarn, is it?"

"A yarn!" exclaimed Philip. "Do you think I would invent such a
thing?"

"Can't say," returned Lorimer imperturbably. "You are quite capable
of it. It's a very creditable crammer, due to Chartreuse. Might have
been designed by Victor Hugo; it's in his style. Scene, Norway--