I suppose I must have been silent after finishing this letter.

“No bad news, I trust?” John Mayrant inquired.

I told him no; and presently we had resumed our seats in the quiet charm

of the flowers.

I now spoke with an intention. “What a lot you seem to have seen and

suffered of the advanced Newport!”

The intention wrought its due and immediate effect. “Yes. There was no

choice. I had gone to Newport upon--upon an urgent matter, which took me

among those people.”

He dwelt upon the pictures that came up in his mind. But he took me away

again from the “urgent matter.”

“I saw,” he resumed more briskly, “fifteen or twenty--most amazing,

sir!--young men, some of them not any older than I am, who had so many

millions that they could easily--” he paused, casting about for some

expression adequate--“could buy Kings Port and put it under a glass

case in a museum--my aunts and all--and never know it!” He livened with

disrespectful mirth over his own picture of his aunts, purchased by

millionaire steel or coal for the purposes of public edification.

“And a very good thing if they could be,” I declared.

He wondered a moment. “My aunts? Under a glass case?”

“Yes, indeed--and with all deference be it said! They’d be more

invaluable, more instructive, than the classics of a thousand

libraries.”

He was prepared not to be pleased. “May I ask to whom and for what?”

“Why, you ought to see! You’ve just been saying it yourself. They would

teach our bulging automobilists, our unlicked boy cubs, our

alcoholic girls who shout to waiters for ‘high-balls’ on country club

porches--they would teach these wallowing creatures, whose money has

merely gilded their bristles, what American refinement once was. The

manners we’ve lost, the decencies we’ve banished, the standards we’ve

lowered, their light is still flickering in this passing generation of

yours. It’s the last torch. That’s why I wish it could, somehow, pass on

the sacred fire.”

He shook his head. “They don’t want the sacred fire. They want the

high-balls--and they have money enough to be drunk straight through the

next world!” He was thoughtful. “They are the classics,” he added.

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