Chapter V

The next day Grover had an accident, which cost him upward of $200. He mixed something or other, which made a terrific racket and smashed no end of retorts and bottles. When he entered the laboratory again after having trimmed off the scorched fringe of his whiskers, he found a big card nailed over his place, with the following inscription: "Smoking and being in love in this laboratory is strictly forbidden." The prohibition in regard to smoking was in print; the rest was interpolated with a paint-brush. Grover looked around wrathfully upon the twenty or thirty backs which reared themselves against shelves of many-colored bottles; they bore all an expression of unconscious innocence.

The hour was approaching when he might without impropriety call upon his _fiancee_. His toilet, however, needed some attention, after his recent experiment with explosives; and he hastened to his rooms to make himself presentable. On the table he found a letter, addressed in the usual high-shouldered characters of American girls. It read as follows:

MY DEAR MR. GROVER: Our engagement for mutual convenience
being no longer convenient, I grant your request and hereby
break it. I would have done so when you first asked me, only
I enjoyed your embarrassment, and had, moreover, a desire to
punish you for the liberty you took with a lady whom you had
not seen until that moment. I trust we shall remain good
friends. If you desire a scene of some sort, in order to
advertise our changed relations to the household, you may
call upon me this afternoon at three. You will understand
that I do this only to save explanations. A quarrel, you
know, ends everything; is so intelligible and satisfactory;
precludes questions and discourages curiosity. Accordingly,
my dear sir, I will quarrel with you at 3:15 P.M., promptly,
and remain,

Sincerely your friend,
LOUISE JONES.

LEIPSIC, March 12, 187-.

Grover read this enigmatical epistle eleven times without deriving the slightest clue to its meaning. He read it aloud and he read it in silence, he analyzed, scrutinized and apostrophized it, but without avail. That feminine caprice could reach such alarming dimensions he had never dreamed. That she should want to break with him the morning after she had become really engaged to him could be accounted for by a variety of reasons. But that she should write him a cool and semi-humorous letter, showing no more agitation than one of Bret Harte's heroes who is about to be hanged--that certainly capped the climax of eccentric behavior. And that, after her passionate protests! But hold on! What did she say yesterday that was so passionate? Curiously enough, he could not remember a word of what she had said. It began slowly to dawn upon him that, during the memorable scene, he had himself done all the talking. She had not uttered a syllable. It was odd, but probably not without precedent. Well, if she wanted her quarrel, she should have it promptly on the hour, and with _eclat_.

At 3:15 o'clock he rang the Professor's door-bell, and was ushered into the drawing-room, where Miss Jones stood smiling sweetly upon him.

"I hope you didn't misunderstand my note," she said, seeing the troubled look in his eyes.

"Misunderstand it!" he ejaculated, with ill-suppressed indignation; "if I had arrived as far as misunderstanding it, I should have had respect for my intellect. I doubt if the seven sages could have interpreted it."

"It wasn't necessary that they should," said Miss Jones imperturbably.

"But suppose they had made love to you?" he began, argumentatively.

"The seven sages _never_ made love to me," remarked Miss Jones, perversely.

"But suppose you had kissed them?"

"I _never_ kissed them!"

Miss Jones repelled this insinuation with indignant emphasis.

"It is utterly useless to argue with you," he said, pacing the floor in agitation.

"Then I would not try."

"You are cruel, vain, and heartless."

"If those qualities were contagious, I should know where I got them."

"You mean yesterday, when you kissed me!"

"I must decline to listen to such language. You will have the kindness to remember Mr. Grover, that from this moment our acquaintance is at an end."

Miss Jones arose with flaming cheeks and eyes in which the unseen tears trembled; she made Mr. Grover a sweeping courtesy and moved with a good deal of superfluous stateliness toward the door. He returned her salute, though with much less dignity; then rushed forward to hold her back, but with an impatient gesture she shook off his grasp and hurried out.

"We met to quarrel in jest, and we did it in earnest," he reflected grimly, as he picked up his hat and opened the door. There was a sudden, agitated rustle of skirts in the hall, and he was just in time to see Roeschen's back hair vanish into the dining-room.