t your parson Brawnley to answer that!" Adrian changed
the resting-place of a leg, and smiled. The Age was an old battle-field
between him and Austin.

"My parson Brawnley, as you call him, has answered it," said Austin,
"not by hoping his best, which would probably leave the Age to go mad
to your satisfaction, but by doing it. And he has and will answer your
Diaper Sandoe in better verse, as he confutes him in a better life."

"You don't see Sandoe's depth," Adrian replied. "Consider that phrase,
'Ophelia of the Ages'! Is not Brawnley, like a dozen other leading
spirits--I think that's your term just the metaphysical Hamlet to drive
her mad? She, poor maid! asks for marriage and smiling babes, while
my lord lover stands questioning the Infinite, and rants to the
Impalpable."

Austin laughed. "Marriage and smiling babes she would have in abundance,
if Brawnley legislated. Wait till you know him. He will be over at Poer
Hall shortly, and you will see what a Man of the Age means. But now,
pray, consult with me about these boys."

"Oh, those boys!" Adrian tossed a hand. "Are there boys of the Age as
well as men? Not? Then boys are better than men: boys are for all Ages.
What do you think, Austin? They've been studying Latude's Escape.
I found the book open in Ricky's room, on the top of Jonathan Wild.
Jonathan preserved the secrets of his profession, and taught them
nothing. So they're going to make a Latude of Mr. Tom Bakewell. He's to
be Bastille Bakewell, whether he will or no. Let them. Let the wild colt
run free! We can't help them. We can only look on. We should spoil the
play."

Adrian always made a point of feeding the fretful beast Impatience with
pleasantries--a not congenial diet; and Austin, the most patient of
human beings, began to lose his self-control.

"You talk as if Time belonged to you, Adrian. We have but a few hours
left us. Work first, and joke afterwards. The boy's fate is being
decided now."

"So is everybody's, my dear Austin!" yawned the epicurean.

"Yes, but this boy is at present under our guardianship--under yours
especially."

"Not yet! not yet!" Adrian interjected languidly. "No getting into
scrapes when I have him. The leash, young hound! the collar, young colt!
I'm perfectly irresponsible at present."

"You may have something different to deal with when you are responsible,
if you think that."

"I take my young prince as I find him, coz: a Julian, or a Caracalla:
a Constanti