ne
looks for some fulfilment, but she contrives to make out of the very
postponement of promise a larger reiteration of it. She permits no
shadow of negation that might disappoint, no growth of hope that might
encourage. Her talk is so well conventionalised to suit the tonic and
dominant of social exigence that one must avoid the vulgarian error of
striving after a literal transcription of it."

A day later had been scrawled, with a dash of irritation in the
caligraphy, a third note:--

"Of dispositions like hers that are worthy analysis, it is expedient to
restrain the lesser deduction in order to gain the full breadth of the
greater; one must look through the eyelashes at the substantial flesh
and blood perfections to achieve the infinite spiritual possibilities
deduced by the instinctive calculus.... Spiritual possibilities! Am I
mad to seek for them in a woman-creature with the appetite of a
schoolboy and an avowed _penchant_ for periwinkles?"

"That last clause," Lorraine said as I came to it, "is merely an
ebullition of annoyance. I mean to proceed with my analysis more
cool-headedly. The subject is interesting."

"Yes, proceed with it; but I won't warrant the coolness."

"What do you bet?" smiled he thoughtfully.

"My dear fellow, I don't bet on certainties."

Just then the advent of visitors interrupted the discussion, and a whole
fortnight passed without my seeing either the poet or my sister.

I had begun to relegate the patchwork romance to the store-cupboard of
memory, when into my room rushed Sarah with almost juvenile impetuosity.

"Look at this! Did you ever hear anything so crazed?" She threw a scrap
of paper on the table. It was addressed to Clair, and I read it aloud:--

DEAR LADY,--You loathe poets. I therefore desire to adopt
another calling. Cab-driving might suit me, but I fear I am
lacking in the necessary command of language to ensure success.
I could sweep a crossing with neatness and precision, and can
pick periwinkles with unrivalled velocity. To this end I have
been practising daily with a darning-needle and a stop-watch.
Have you any objection to entering the lists against me, the
winner of course claiming whatever guerdon he or she may desire?

The note was in Lorraine's handwriting, and affixed to it was a copy of
Clair's answer:--

DEAR MR LORRAINE,--Your poetic gifts will, I fear, militate
against advance as a crossing sweeper. The oc