Greeks, and said, "Which proves my
original statement."

Submissive signs, as of one propped, appeared in Rickie's face.
Mr. Pembroke then questioned him about the men who found Plato not
difficult. But here he kept silence, patting the school chapel gently,
and presently the conversation turned to topics with which they were
both more competent to deal.

"Does Agnes take much interest in the school?"

"Not as much as she did. It is the result of her engagement. If our
naughty soldier had not carried her off, she might have made an ideal
schoolmaster's wife. I often chaff him about it, for he a little
despises the intellectual professions. Natural, perfectly natural. How
can a man who faces death feel as we do towards mensa or tupto?"

"Perfectly true. Absolutely true."

Mr. Pembroke remarked to himself that Frederick was improving.

"If a man shoots straight and hits straight and speaks straight, if his
heart is in the right place, if he has the instincts of a Christian
and a gentleman--then I, at all events, ask no better husband for my
sister."

"How could you get a better?" he cried. "Do you remember the thing in
'The Clouds'?" And he quoted, as well as he could, from the invitation
of the Dikaios Logos, the description of the young Athenian, perfect in
body, placid in mind, who neglects his work at the Bar and trains all
day among the woods and meadows, with a garland on his head and a friend
to set the pace; the scent of new leaves is upon them; they rejoice in
the freshness of spring; over their heads the plane-tree whispers to the
elm, perhaps the most glorious invitation to the brainless life that has
ever been given.

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Pembroke, who did not want a brother-in-law out of
Aristophanes. Nor had he got one, for Mr. Dawes would not have bothered
over the garland or noticed the spring, and would have complained that
the friend ran too slowly or too fast.

"And as for her--!" But he could think of no classical parallel for
Agnes. She slipped between examples. A kindly Medea, a Cleopatra with a
sense of duty--these suggested her a little. She was not born in Greece,
but came overseas to it--a dark, intelligent princess. With all her
splendour, there were hints of splendour still hidden--hints of an
older, richer, and more mysterious land. He smiled at the idea of her
being "not there." Ansell, clever as he was, had made a bad blunder. She
had more reality than any other woman in the world