"I dare say there are some very good people down there," said Arnold, with
deliberation, "but all the same I should welcome an inundation. Think
what a climate this would be, if we could have the sea below us, knocking
against the rocks on still nights, and thundering at us in a storm!"

"Don't speak of it! It makes me long for a miracle, or a judgment, or
something that's not likely to happen."

"Meantime, I want you to come down the trail, and pass judgment on my
bachelor quarters. I can't stand the boarding-house any longer! By Jove,
I'm like the British footman in 'Punch,'--'what with them legs o' mutton
and legs o' pork, I'm a'most wore out! I want a new hanimal inwented!' I've
found an old girl down in the valley who consents to look after me and vary
the monotony of my dinners at the highest market price. She isn't here yet,
but the cabin is about ready. I want you to come down and look it over. I'm
a perfect barbarian about color! You can't put it on too thick and strong
to suit me. I dare say I need toning down."

They were slipping and sliding down the muddy trail, brushing the raindrops
from the live-oak scrub as they passed. A subtle underlying content had
lulled them both, of late, into an easier companionship than they had ever
found possible before, and they were gay with that enjoyment of wet weather
which is like an intoxication after seven months of drought.

"Now I suppose you like soft, harmonious tints and neutral effects. You're
a bit of a conservative in everything, I fear."

"I think I should like plenty of color here, or else positive white; the
monotony of the landscape and its own deep, low tones demand it. A neutral
house would fade into an ash heap under this sun."