Presently he drew from his breast pocket a small volume in white vellum
and gold, which he presented to me. It was a copy of his poems,--"The
Paradise of Passion, and other Rhythms." I glanced at the fly-leaf, and
to my astonishment and confusion perceived that underneath the
inscription, "Miss Harlan, with the respectful homage of him who did
these verses," was a sonnet "To Virginia," which began,--

The happy rose which lately from thy hands
I took with kisses, dry and withered lies--

I did not attempt to read farther at the moment. Indeed, I felt inclined
to draw myself up austerely at first, but on second thought acknowledged
his presumption with the same laughing coquetry I had hitherto
displayed. After all, it was not worth while to become angry. His
extravagance was not to be taken too seriously. It was rather refreshing
for a change. I wondered how he would behave if he ever really were in
love.

Meanwhile I had endeavored to listen at the same time to the
conversation between Aunt Helen and Mr. Spence. I was relieved to find
that he saw fit to avoid any allusion to his theories, and pursued the
highway of indifferent subjects, such as the weather, the stage, and
foreign travel. Still, I could tell from Aunt Helen's superior and as it
seemed to me disdainful tone that she by no means approved of my new
acquaintances, though I detected her casting an occasional glance of
puzzled curiosity at Mr. Barr, whose eccentricities were, I suppose,
more amusing than the calm of her companion.

"I don't suppose you find the differences very marked between this
country and Europe, Mr. Spence?" I heard her inquire after learning that
he had passed much of his life abroad.

"On the contrary, very slight."

"Nice people are very much the same everywhere," she observed haughtily.

"To tell the truth," said Mr. Spence, "I have been rather disappointed
at finding the people, as well as the manners and customs, of this
country so similar to those across the water. I had been led to expect
originality and independence. That was what I was taught to believe as a
child. But after an absence from my country of six years I came back to
find nearly the same manners and customs, and the same virtues and
vices, as I left behind me in Europe."

"Vices?" echoed Aunt Helen. "I should say there was much less vice in
this country than in Europe."

"Not if we judge by the newspapers."

"Ah, but one can't believe all one read