ver breakfast, propping a book against the
sugar basin, and taking it and his rasher slice about, which was, he
insisted, the peculiar joy of a bachelor's breakfast; but this morning
Sarah found him at ten o'clock still at table, gazing intently at an
untouched cutlet, and without any book. He swallowed two mouthfuls
hurriedly and hastened to the study, leaving her to understand that he
had been immersed in a theological problem. It seemed only reasonable
that a man should have one pipe before settling down to a forenoon of
hard study, but there is no doubt that the wreaths of smoke, as they
float upwards, take fantastic shapes, and lend themselves to visions.
Twelve o'clock--it was outrageous--six hours gone without a stroke of
work. Sarah is informed that, as he has a piece of very stiff work to
do, luncheon must be an hour later, and that the terrier had better go
out for a walk. Then Carmichael cleared his table and set himself down
to a new German critic, who was doing marvellous things with the
Prophet Isaiah. In three thick volumes--paper bound and hideous to
behold--and in a style of elaborate repulsiveness, Schlochenboshen
showed that the book had been written by a syndicate, on the principle
that each member contributed one verse in turn, without reference to
his neighbours. It was, in fact, the simple plan of a children's game,
in which you write a noun and I an adjective, and the result greatly
pleases the company; and the theory of the eminent German was
understood to throw a flood of light on Scripture. Schlochenboshen had
already discovered eleven alternating authors, and as No. 4 would
occasionally, through pure perversity and just contrary to rules, pool
his contribution with No. 6, several other interesting variations were
introduced. In such circumstances one must fix the list of authors in
his head, and this can be conveniently done by letters of the alphabet.
Carmichael made a beginning with four, KATE, and then he laid down his
pen and went out for a turn in the garden. When he came in with a
resolute mind, he made a precis of the Professor's introduction, and it
began, "Dear Miss Carnegie," after which he went to lunch and ate three
biscuits. As for some reason his mind could not face even the most
fascinating German, Carmichael fell back on the twelve hundredth book
on Mary Queen of Scots, which had just come from the library, and which
was to finally vindicate that very beautiful, very c