“But you came out?” Kitty suggested. “Oh, I’ve been out,” John returned. He was getting older. I doubt if the past few years of his life had matured him as much as had the past few days. Then he looked at Kitty in the eyes. “And I’d always come out--if Romance rang the bell.” “Hm!” said Kitty. “Then you know that ring?” “We begin to hear it early in Kings Port,” remarked John. “About the age of fourteen.” Kitty looked at him with an interest that now plainly revealed curiosity also. It occurred to me that he could not have found any great embarrassment in getting on at Newport. “What if I rang the bell myself?” explained Kitty. “Come in the evening,” returned John. “We won’t go home till morning.” Kitty kissed her hand to him, and, during the pleased giggle that she gave, I saw her first taking in John and then Hortense. Kitty was thinking, thinking, of John’s “crudity.” And so I made a little experiment for myself. “I wonder if men seem as similar in making love as women do in receiving it?” “They aren’t!” shouted both John and Kitty, in the same indignant breath. Their noise brought Bohm to listen to us. This experiment was so much a success that I promptly made another for the special benefit of Bohm, Kitty’s next husband. I find it often delightful to make a little gratuitous mischief, just to watch the victims. I addressed Kitty. “What would you do if a man said he could drown in your hair as joyfully as the Duke of Clarence did in his butt of Malmsey?” “Why--why--” gasped Kitty, “why--why--” I suppose it gave John time; but even so he was splendid. “She has heard it said!” This was his triumphant shout. I should not have supposed that Kitty could have turned any redder, but she did. John buried his nose in his tall glass, and gulped a choking quantity of its contents, and mopped his face profusely; but little good that effected. There sat this altogether innocent pair, deeply suffused with the crimson of apparent guilt, and there stood Kitty’s next husband, eyeing them suspiciously. My little gratuitous mischief was a perfect success, and remains with me as one of the bright spots in this day of pleasure. Vivacious measures from the piano brought Kitty to her feet. “There’s Gazza!” she cried. “We’ll make him sing!” And on the instant she was gone down the companionway. Bohm followed her with a less agitated speed, and soon all were gone below, leaving John and me alone on the deck, sitting together in silence.