Remember,
you've been paid; and I won't allow you to be spiteful and do bad work
for a little thing like that.
you've been paid; and I won't allow you to be spiteful and do bad work
for a little thing like that.
Kipling - Poems
I can just see that it isn't
everything to all the world. Do what I say, and not what I do. "
Maisie was careful not to reopen debatable matters, and they returned to
London joyously. The terminus stopped Dick in the midst of an eloquent
harangue on the beauties of exercise. He would buy Maisie a horse,--such
a horse as never yet bowed head to bit,--would stable it, with a
companion, some twenty miles from London, and Maisie, solely for her
health's sake should ride with him twice or thrice a week.
"That's absurd," said she. "It wouldn't be proper. "
"Now, who in all London tonight would have sufficient interest or
audacity to call us two to account for anything we chose to do? "
Maisie looked at the lamps, the fog, and the hideous turmoil. Dick was
right; but horseflesh did not make for Art as she understood it.
"You're very nice sometimes, but you're very foolish more times. I'm not
going to let you give me horses, or take you out of your way tonight.
I'll go home by myself. Only I want you to promise me something. You
won't think any more about that extra threepence, will you?
Remember,
you've been paid; and I won't allow you to be spiteful and do bad work
for a little thing like that. You can be so big that you mustn't be
tiny. "
This was turning the tables with a vengeance. There remained only to put
Maisie into her hansom.
"Goodbye," she said simply. "You'll come on Sunday. It has been a
beautiful day, Dick. Why can't it be like this always? "
"Because love's like line-work: you must go forward or backward; you
can't stand still. By the way, go on with your line-work. Good night,
and, for my--for my sake, take care of yourself. "
He turned to walk home, meditating. The day had brought him nothing that
he hoped for, but--surely this was worth many days--it had brought him
nearer to Maisie. The end was only a question of time now, and the prize
well worth the waiting. By instinct, once more, he turned to the river.
"And she understood at once," he said, looking at the water.
everything to all the world. Do what I say, and not what I do. "
Maisie was careful not to reopen debatable matters, and they returned to
London joyously. The terminus stopped Dick in the midst of an eloquent
harangue on the beauties of exercise. He would buy Maisie a horse,--such
a horse as never yet bowed head to bit,--would stable it, with a
companion, some twenty miles from London, and Maisie, solely for her
health's sake should ride with him twice or thrice a week.
"That's absurd," said she. "It wouldn't be proper. "
"Now, who in all London tonight would have sufficient interest or
audacity to call us two to account for anything we chose to do? "
Maisie looked at the lamps, the fog, and the hideous turmoil. Dick was
right; but horseflesh did not make for Art as she understood it.
"You're very nice sometimes, but you're very foolish more times. I'm not
going to let you give me horses, or take you out of your way tonight.
I'll go home by myself. Only I want you to promise me something. You
won't think any more about that extra threepence, will you?
Remember,
you've been paid; and I won't allow you to be spiteful and do bad work
for a little thing like that. You can be so big that you mustn't be
tiny. "
This was turning the tables with a vengeance. There remained only to put
Maisie into her hansom.
"Goodbye," she said simply. "You'll come on Sunday. It has been a
beautiful day, Dick. Why can't it be like this always? "
"Because love's like line-work: you must go forward or backward; you
can't stand still. By the way, go on with your line-work. Good night,
and, for my--for my sake, take care of yourself. "
He turned to walk home, meditating. The day had brought him nothing that
he hoped for, but--surely this was worth many days--it had brought him
nearer to Maisie. The end was only a question of time now, and the prize
well worth the waiting. By instinct, once more, he turned to the river.
"And she understood at once," he said, looking at the water.
