structors teach only what they themselves lately have learned, and that, in many cases, they have not learned much.
But in truth neither paid much heed to the tabulated vocables of the Venetian cardinal—nor to any of the other rarities near by. Basil Randolph was wondering how he was to take Arthur Lemoyne, and was asking himself if his trouble in setting up a new ménage was likely to go for nothing; and Bertram Cope, while he pursued the course of the bookworm through the parchment covers and the yellowed sheets within, was wondering in what definite way his host might aid the fortunes of Arthur Lemoyne and thus make matters a little easier for them both. "All' ill.mo Sig.r par on ossevnd.mo . . . All' ill.mo et ecc.mo Sig.r par on . . . All' ill.mo et R.R.d.mo Sig.r, Sig.r Pio. Francesco Bembo, Vesco et Conte di Belluno"—thus ran the faded brown lines on the flyleaf, in their solicitous currying of favor; but these reiterated forms of address conveyed no meaning to Cope, and offered no opening: now, as once before, he let the matter wait.
Randolph thought over Cope's statement of his plans, and his slight touch of pique did not pass away. Toward the end of the evening, he spoke of the wreck and the rescue, after all.
"Well," he said, "you are not so completely committed as I feared."
"Committed?"
"By your new household arrangements."
"Well, I shall have back my chum."
Randolph put forward the alternative.
