"_Too Much Polydores_"
The next morning at breakfast, Beth announced that she and Rob were
going to spend the day camping in the woods.
Silvia and I tried not to look significantly at each other, but Beth
was very keen.
"We will take Diogenes with us," she instantly added.
"Oh, no!" protested Silvia. "He'll be such a bother. And then he can't
walk very far, you know."
"He'll be no bother," persisted Beth. "And we'll borrow the little
cart to draw him in."
"Yes," acquiesced Rob. "We sure want Diogenes with us."
"I'll have them put up a lunch for you," proposed Silvia.
"No," Rob objected. "We are going to forage and cook over a fire in
the woods."
"Then," I proposed to Silvia with alacrity, "we'll have our first day
alone together--the first we have had since the Polydores came into
our lives. I'll rent the 'autoo' again, and we will go through the
country and dine at some little wayside inn."
"Get the 'autoo', now, Lucien," advised Beth privately, "and make an
early start, so Rob and I can take supplies from the store without
arousing Silvia's suspicions."
"I don't believe," said Silvia disappointedly, when we were "autooing"
on our way, "that they are in love after all, or that he has
proposed, or that he is going to."
"Where did you draw all those pessimistic inferences from?" I asked.
"From their both being so keen to take Diogenes with them."
"Diogenes would be no barrier to their love-making," I told her. "He
couldn't repeat what they said; at least, not so anyone could
understand him."
Many miles away we came upon a picturesque little old-time tavern
where we had an appetizing dinner, and then continued on our aimless
way. It was nearly ten o'clock when we returned to the hotel, where
the owner of the "autoo" was waiting.
Rob came down the roadway.
"Where's Beth?" asked Silvia.
"She has gone to bed. The day in the open made her sleepy."
When Silvia had left us, the old farmer said with a chuckle: "I can't
offer you another swig of stone fence."
"It's probably just as well you can't," I replied.
"I'd like to be introduced to one," said Rob, who appeared to be
somewhat downcast. "I sure need a bracer."
"What's the matter, Rob?" I asked when we were lighting our pipes. "A
strenuous day? Two in rapid 'concussion' with the Polydores must be
nerve-racking."
"Yes; I admit there seemed to be 'too much Polydores.' We all had a
happy reunion, and I devoted the forenoon to the entertainment of the
famous family so I could be entitled to the afternoon off to spend
with Beth. At noon we built a fire and cooked a sumptuous dinner. Beth
baked up some things to keep them supplied a couple of days longer.
After dinner I asked her to go for a row. She insisted on taking
Diogenes along, and the others all followed us on a raft. So I decided
to cut the water sports short, and Beth and I started for a walk in
the woods. Three or more were constantly right on our trail. I begged
and bribed, but to no avail. They were sticktights all right, and," he
added morosely, "she seemed covertly to aid and abet them. When we
started for home, I found that the young fiends had broken the cart,
so I had to carry Diogenes most of the way, and of course he bellowed
as usual at being parted from the whelps."
[Illustration: I had to carry Diogenes most of the way]
"They aren't such 'fine little chaps' after all," I couldn't resist
commenting. "Familiarity breeds contempt, you see. I am sorry Diogenes
had so much of their society. He'll be unendurable tomorrow. Well, you
had some day!"
"So did the Polydores. Demetrius and Diogenes fell in the fire twice.
Emerald threw a finger out of joint, but Ptolemy quickly jerked it
into place. Pythagoras was kicked off the raft twice, following a
mutiny. Demetrius threw a lighted match into the vines and set fire to
the house. They said it was a 'beaut of a day', though, and urged us
to come tomorrow and repeat the program. By the way, they went across
the lake on their raft yesterday and bought a tent of some campers.
They have pitched it in the woods beyond the house."
When I went upstairs Silvia met me disconsolately.
"He didn't propose," she said disappointedly. "She wouldn't let him."
"Did you wake her up to find out?" I asked.
"She hadn't gone to bed and she wasn't sleepy. She was trimming a
hat."
"Why wouldn't she let him propose, if she cares for him?" I asked
perplexedly.
"Well, you see," explained Silvia, "that when a girl--a coquette girl
like Beth--is as sure of a man as she is of Rob, she gets a touch of
contrariness or offishness or something. She said it would have been
too prosaic and cut and dried if they had gone away for a day in the
woods and come back engaged. She wants the unexpected."
"Do you think she loves him?" I asked interestedly.
"She doesn't say so. You can't tell from what she says anyway. Still,
I think she is hovering around the danger point."
"She'd better watch out. Rob isn't the kind of a man who will stand
for too much thwarting," I replied.
"If he'd only play up a little bit to some one else, it would bring
things to a climax," said my wife sagely.
"There's no one else to play up to. The blonde left today because it
was so slow here."
"Maybe some new girl will come tomorrow," said Silvia, "or there's
that trim little waitress who is waiting her way through college. He
gave her a good big tip yesterday. I think I will give him a hint."
"It wouldn't help any. He wouldn't know how to play such a game if you
could persuade him to try. He'd probably tell the girl his motive in
being attentive to her and then she'd back out. Maybe, after all, Beth
doesn't love him."
"I think she does," replied my wife, "because she is getting
absent-minded. She let Diogenes go too near the fire. His shoes are
burned, his hair singed, and his dress scorched. He woke up when I
came in and he was so cross. He acted just the way he does when he is
with his brothers."