Flappers and Philosophers | Page 2

nothing
better."
"From now on," he announced grandiloquently, "you are no niece of
mine. I---"
"O-o-o-oh!" The cry was wrung from Ardita with the agony of a lost
soul. "Will you stop boring me! Will you go 'way! Will you jump
overboard and drown! Do you want me to throw this book at you!"

"If you dare do any---"
Smack! The Revolt of the Angels sailed through the air, missed its
target by the length of a short nose, and bumped cheerfully down the
companionway.
The gray-haired man made an instinctive step backward and then two
cautious steps forward. Ardita jumped to her five feet four and stared at
him defiantly, her gray eyes blazing.
"Keep off!"
"How dare you!" he cried.
"Because I darn please!"
"You've grown unbearable! Your disposition---"
"You've made me that way! No child ever has a bad disposition unless
it's her fancy's fault! Whatever I am, you did it."
Muttering something under his breath her uncle turned and, walking
forward called in a loud voice for the launch. Then he returned to the
awning, where Ardita had again seated herself and resumed her
attention to the lemon.
"I am going ashore," he said slowly. "I will be out again at nine o'clock
to-night. When I return we start back to New York, wither I shall turn
you over to your aunt for the rest of your natural, or rather unnatural,
life." He paused and looked at her, and then all at once something in the
utter childness of her beauty seemed to puncture his anger like an
inflated tire, and render him helpless, uncertain, utterly fatuous.
"Ardita," he said not unkindly, "I'm no fool. I've been round. I know
men. And, child, confirmed libertines don't reform until they're
tired--and then they're not themselves--they're husks of themselves." He
looked at her as if expecting agreement, but receiving no sight or sound
of it he continued. "Perhaps the man loves you--that's possible. He's

loved many women and he'll love many more. Less than a month ago,
one month, Ardita, he was involved in a notorious affair with that
red-haired woman, Mimi Merril; promised to give her the diamond
bracelet that the Czar of Russia gave his mother. You know--you read
the papers."
"Thrilling scandals by an anxious uncle," yawned Ardita. "Have it
filmed. Wicked clubman making eyes at virtuous flapper. Virtuous
flapper conclusively vamped by his lurid past. Plans to meet him at
Palm Beach. Foiled by anxious uncle."
"Will you tell me why the devil you want to marry him?"
"I'm sure I couldn't say," said Audits shortly. "Maybe because he's the
only man I know, good or bad, who has an imagination and the courage
of his convictions. Maybe it's to get away from the young fools that
spend their vacuous hours pursuing me around the country. But as for
the famous Russian bracelet, you can set your mind at rest on that score.
He's going to give it to me at Palm Beach--if you'll show a little
intelligence."
"How about the--red-haired woman?"
"He hasn't seen her for six months," she said angrily. "Don't you
suppose I have enough pride to see to that? Don't you know by this
time that I can do any darn thing with any darn man I want to?"
She put her chin in the air like the statue of France Aroused, and then
spoiled the pose somewhat by raising the lemon for action.
"Is it the Russian bracelet that fascinates you?"
"No, I'm merely trying to give you the sort of argument that would
appeal to your intelligence. And I wish you'd go 'way," she said, her
temper rising again. "You know I never change my mind. You've been
boring me for three days until I'm about to go crazy. I won't go ashore!
Won't! Do you hear? Won't!"

"Very well," he said, "and you won't go to Palm Beach either. Of all the
selfish, spoiled, uncontrolled disagreeable, impossible girl I have---"
Splush! The half-lemon caught him in the neck. Simultaneously came a
hail from over the side.
"The launch is ready, Mr. Farnam."
Too full of words and rage to speak, Mr. Farnam cast one utterly
condemning glance at his niece and, turning, ran swiftly down the
ladder.

II
Five o'clock robed down from the sun and plumped soundlessly into
the sea. The golden collar widened into a glittering island; and a faint
breeze that had been playing with the edges of the awning and swaying
one of the dangling blue slippers became suddenly freighted with song.
It was a chorus of men in close harmony and in perfect rhythm to an
accompanying sound of oars dealing the blue writers. Ardita lifted her
head and listened.
"Carrots and Peas, Beans on their knees, Pigs in the seas, Lucky
fellows! Blow