."

"I wish you would write them while I am here."

"I am not in the mood for writing at present."

He spoke hurriedly, and she understood. Hunsdon had told her that he
never wrote save under stimulants. Could it be possible that he had
made up his mind not to drink as long as she was on Nevis? She turned
to him a radiant face of which she was quite unconscious, as she
replied eagerly. "Yes! We have all resolved that you shall not write
a line this winter. A few months out of your life are nothing to
sacrifice to people that admire and long to know you as we do. Never
was a man so sought. I cannot tell you how many schemes we have
already devised to get hold of you----"

"But why--in heaven's name? I cannot help feeling the absurdity."

"Not at all. You are the most celebrated poet of the day, and all the
world loves a lion."

"For some five years, the world of Bath House has existed without the
capers of the local lion," he responded dryly.

"Ah, but you were so determined a recluse. It takes a Lady Hunsdon to
coax a lion from his cave. And, no doubt, she is the only person to
come to Bath House during all these years who knew you well enough to
take such a liberty. You are such an old and intimate friend of her
son."

He stole a quick glance at her, as if to ascertain were she as
ignorant of his life as she pretended, but she was now successfully in
the role of the vivacious young woman, who, in common with the rest of
the world, admired his work and was flattered to know the author.

"Don't think that we mean to make fools of ourselves and bore you,"
she added, with another radiant and somewhat anxious smile. "But now
that the opportunity has come we are all so happy, and we feel deeply
the compliment you have already paid us. Lady Hunsdon hopes that you
will read from your works some evening----"

"Good God, no! Unless, to be sure, you have a charity entertainment. I
have done that in the past and felt that the object compensated for
the torture. But I am somewhat surprised to find that you are a lion
hunter."

"I don't think I am--that is, I hardly know. You are the first great
man I have ever seen. Perhaps after a season in London I shall be
quite frivolous and worldly."

"I can imagine nothing of the kind. I am not so surprised to learn
that you have not yet spent a season in town."

"Oh, yes, I am a country girl," she said roguishly.

"Not quite that." But he did not pursue the subject, and in