e
raised the bumper and waved it over her head before she put it to her
lips. I am bound to declare that she did not spill a drop. "The true
'Falernian grape,'" she said, as she deposited the empty beaker on
the grass beneath her elbow. Viler champagne I do not think I ever
swallowed; but it was the theory of the wine, not its palpable body
present there, as it were in the flesh, which inspired her. There was
really something grand about her on that occasion, and her enthusiasm
almost amounted to reality.

Mackinnon was amused, and encouraged her, as I must confess did I also.
Mrs. Mackinnon made useless little signs to her husband, really fearing
that the Falernian would do its good offices too thoroughly. My wife,
getting me apart as I walked round the circle distributing viands,
remarked that "the woman was a fool and would disgrace herself." But I
observed that after the disposal of that bumper she worshipped the rosy
god in theory only, and therefore saw no occasion to interfere. "Come,
Bacchus," she said, "and come, Silenus, if thou wilt; I know that ye
are hovering round the graves of your departed favourites. And ye, too,
nymphs of Egeria," and she pointed to the classic grove which was
all but close to us as we sat there. "In olden days ye did not always
despise the abodes of men. But why should we invoke the presence of the
gods--we who can become godlike ourselves! We ourselves are the deities
of the present age. For us shall the tables be spread with ambrosia, for
us shall the nectar flow."

Upon the whole it was a very good fooling--for a while; and as soon as
we were tired of it we arose from our seats and began to stroll about
the place. It was beginning to be a little dusk and somewhat cool, but
the evening air was pleasant, and the ladies, putting on their shawls,
did not seem inclined at once to get into the carriages. At any rate,
Mrs. Talboys was not so inclined, for she started down the hill toward
the long low wall of the old Roman circus at the bottom, and O'Brien,
close at her elbow, started with her.

"Ida, my dear, you had better remain here," she said to her daughter;
"you will be tired if you come as far as we are going."

"Oh no, mamma, I shall not," said Ida; "you get tired much quicker than
I do."

"Oh yes, you will; besides, I do not wish you to come." There was an end
of it for Ida, and Mrs. Talboys and O'Brien walked off together, while
we all looked into one another's faces.

"