For three whole days you thus may rest
From office business, news, and strife.--_Pope_.
When the summer heats set in, Meredith, one evening, drove to Morton's
house, and, arrayed in linen and grass-cloth, smoked his cigar under
his friend's veranda with as much contentment as the thermometer at
ninety would permit. The window at his side was that of the room which
Morton used as his study, and the table was covered with books.
"Colonel," said Meredith, "what a painstaking fellow you are! Ever
since you left college--except when you were off on that journey,
which was one of the most rational things you ever did in your
life--you have been digging here among your books, as if you were some
half-starved law student, with a prospect of matrimony."
"I've done digging for the present. It's against my principles to work
much in July and August."
"What do you mean to do?"
"Set out on a journey."
"I suppose so. You are a lucky fellow."
"Give yourself a vacation, and come with me."
"No, I'm in for it for the next two months; but I will have my revenge
before long."
"Three days from your office will never ruin you or your family. Come
with me to New Baden, if you can't do better."
"I think I can manage that,--and I will."
Accordingly, on Monday morning, they took the train thitherward.