"
"Bravo! bravo!" cried Travis, pounding on the table. "Hear, hear--
none, Brutus, none."
Condy sat down on the table and swung his legs But during the next
few moments, while they were eating the last of their cheese, his
good spirits fell rapidly away from him. He heaved a sigh, and
thrust both hands gloomily into his pockets.
"Cheese, Condy?" asked Travis.
He shook his head with a dark frown, muttering: "No cheese, no
cheese."
"What's wrong, Condy--what's the matter?" asked Travis, with
concern.
For some time he would not tell her, answering all her inquiries
by closing his eyes and putting his chin in the air, nodding his
head in knowing fashion.
"But what is it?"
"You don't respect me," he muttered; and for a long time this was
all that could be got from him. No, no, she did not respect him;
no, she did not take him seriously.
"But of course I do. Why don't I? Condy Rivers, what's got into
you NOW?"
"No, no; I know it. I can tell. You don't take me seriously.
You don't respect me."
"But why?"
"Make a blooming buffoon of myself," he mumbled tragically.
In great distress Travis labored to contradict him. Why, they had
just been having a good time, that was all. Why, she had been
just as silly as he. Condy caught at the word.
"Silly! There. I knew it. I told you. I'm silly. I'm a
buffoon.--But haven't we had a great afternoon?" he added, with a
sudden grin.
"I never remember," announced Travis emphatically, "when I've had
a better time than I've had to-day; and I know just why it's been
such a success.
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