essor, "to decide between what we owe
to the world and science, and what we owe to ourselves. You see, I
decided in favor of myself. Possibly another man would have decided in
favor of the invention."

"Not if he were desperately in love," said the Master of the House.

"All those fine-spun feelings were unnecessary," said the Next Neighbor.
"If you had not confused your mind with them you would have seen clearly
enough that the first idea which came into your head was the proper one
to act upon. It would have been no terrible deception if you had taken
the instrument to Mary without the little machine and talked English
with her. Later you could have told her you had the invention and you
could use it. By that time she would have forgotten that she ever had
made that Burmese speech, and would have been glad of the fame and
fortune the machine would surely have brought."

The Old Professor looked pained. "I do not deny that some such
after-thoughts troubled my mind occasionally for some years. But who can
say anything of the 'might have been'? The instrument might have failed,
after all; or the information gained have proved not worth the hearing;
or--"

Here there was an unlooked-for interruption. The red thrush suddenly
burst into song from the midst of the lilac-bushes, and the whole
company listened spellbound with delight while the little creature
filled the air with melody and sweetness.

When the song ceased, the Professor remarked: "My translatophone would
have been worse than useless here. If I could have heard those words I
should have lost that delicious melody. Doubtless the words were
commonplace enough, but the melody was divine. And it was easy to
interpret the spirit of it. It was a song of joy for all that is
pleasant, and bright, and happy in this world."

THIS STORY IS TOLD BY

THE NEXT NEIGHBOR

AND IS CALLED

THE VICE-CONSORT

X

THE VICE-CONSORT

The red thrush seemed now to be part of the pleasantness of the garden.
Whether he was drawn to the lilac-bushes by the sweet memory of his
former home, or whether he was keeping a tryst with his mate of the
nesting season and was calling her to come to him, or whether his coming
was pure caprice, of course John Gayther could not know. But every day
he came; and when the sky was clear he sang his merry song; and even
when the cloud