“Why, everything and nothing. It was my little fire-fly, my glorious Will-o’-the-wisp that danced among the dark and blackened branches. Ting! Ting! the magic music played, clear and entrancing. ‘Providence has spared you once. Providence has spared you twice. All for what? Can it be that you are kept—simply just to be bereft of all life’s pleasures? Ting! Ting! No. No. Try again! This only once.’ Tinkle! Tinkle! And he tried—only once—only once—on, on, to the bitter end—when the clear ball burst.” As Plucritus spoke he moved about from spot to spot, laughing at almost every line. “Poor, misguided fool! How he shuddered and paled when Fate raised the pall and showed him his own death of shame. How he stared aghast and hollow-eyed when he understood the trickery played on him!” and he laughed again. “Have you no mercy nor consideration?” “Well, yes. Of the bread-poultice sort. I put it on luke-warm and forget to remove it when cold. It sends such a delicious feeling of ill-comfort through the sufferer. Poor Genius! Poor tricked fool! Poor poser of impossible virtues! Why are you here?” “Because at present I am not wanted elsewhere.” “And why so melancholy? Are you not thankful for a holiday? Away from all the tawdry narrowness, you should shine. Now listen to me.” And suddenly he turned and came and sat upon the seat. “I am listening. But keep that damned light of yours out of my sight.” “Oh, certainly.” And with a sudden movement all had darkened. “Now listen to me. For the last twelve years or more you have been a failure. You have been placed in soil in which you do not thrive—soil having very little nutriment.” “Pardon me,” said the other, laughing scornfully. “The duller the background the brighter and clearer the picture shines. Mind your own business and leave me to mind mine.” “I am minding my own business, and your business is mine, and I am capable of managing both,” replied Plucritus. “Well, continue.” “I say you are in the wrong place. Go away. Leave her. I can put you where you can be far better thought of, far better loved.” “And could you find me a more unconscious or more loving pupil?” “I could find you a more appreciative one,” Plucritus answered quickly. “That is not the point, and I prefer for once to stay.” “It is sheer pig-headedness.” “Exactly. The pig has always interested me. Have you anything more to say?” “What! you will stay with the daughter of a thief?” “Even so.” “He who took the widow’s substance that was trusted to him?” “Even so.” “You will stay with the daughter of the coward and the suicide?” “Even so.” “Are you thinking what you’re saying?” “Even so.” “When, may I ask you, are you going to move the curse?” “When the time comes.” “You will not move it, you will deepen it.” “I will argue it when the time comes.” “Genius,” said the other one after a pause, and in a different voice, “I do not think you fully appreciate the extent of my powers.” “Perhaps I do not.”