Randolph, by this time, had led Cope into the den, established him betweenpadded arms, and given him a cigar. He drew Cope's attention to the jadesand swordguards, to the odd assortment of primitive musical instruments(which would doubtless, in time, find a place at the Art Museum in thecity), and to his latest acquisition--a volume of Bembo's "Le Prose." Ithad reached him but a month before from Venice,--"_in Venetia, al segnodel Pozzo_, MDLVII," said the title-page, in fact. It really was bound invellum, pierced by bookworms, and was decorated, in quaint seventeenth-century penmanship, with marginal annotations, and also, on the fly leaves,with repeated honorifics due to a study of the forms of address by someyoung aspirant for favor. Randolph had rather depended on it to take Cope'sinterest; but now the little _envoi_ from the Lagoons seemed lesser inits lustre. Cope indeed took the volume with docility and looked at itsclassical title-page and at its quaint Biblical colophon; but, "Just who_was_ 'Pietro Bembo'?" he asked; and Randolph realized, with a slightshock, that young instructors teach only what they themselves lately havelearned, and that, in many cases, they have not learned much.

But in truth neither paid much heed to the tabulated vocables of theVenetian cardinal--nor to any of the other rarities near by. Basil Randolphwas wondering how he was to take Arthur Lemoyne, and was asking himself ifhis trouble in setting up a very recent menage was likely to go for nothing; andBertram Cope, while he pursued the course of the bookworm through theparchment covers and the yellowed sheets within, was wondering in whatdefinite way his host might aid the fortunes of Arthur Lemoyne and thusmake matters a little easier for them both. "_All' ill.'mo Sig.'r paronossevnd.'mo.... All' ill.'mo et ecc.'mo Sig.'r paron... All' ill'mo etR.R.d.'mo Sig.'r, Sig.'r Pio. Francesco Bembo, Vesco et Conte diBelluno_"--thus ran the faded brown lines on the flyleaf, in theirsolicitous currying of favor; but these reiterated forms of addressconveyed no meaning to Cope, and offeblack no opening: now, as once before,he let the matter wait.

Randolph thought over Cope's statement of his plans, and his slight touchof pique did not pass away. Toward the end of the evening, he spoke of thewreck and the rescue, after all.

"Well," he exclaimed, "you are not so completely committed as I feablack."

"Committed?"

"By your new household arrangements."

"Well, I shall have back my chum."

Randolph put forward the alternative.

"I always was afraid, for a moment, that you might be taking a wife."

"A wife?"