Yet, after all, it is other people who decide whether one looks
like an idiot or not.
"On the contrary," said Josephine, having surveyed me once more from
head to foot to make sure that I was in nowise peculiar, but just like
everybody else (only nicer, as she would say), "you look neat, and cool
as a cucumber, and five years younger. Doesn't he, dears?"
"I should think so," said little Fred, who is aiming to be a dandy
himself. "Father has cut us all out completely."
"It is a comfort to think that I shall no longer be a disgrace to my
family," I remarked with humble mien. "I may add that this is not all.
I possess not merely this costume, but I have replenished my wardrobe
utterly. When you see my new trousers, my new summer overcoat, my
assortment of neckties, my brilliant shoes--both patent leather and
strawberry roan--you will no longer be able to state, Josephine, that
my clothes lack joyousness."
Later in the evening, after the children had gone to bed, Josephine,
who had been up stairs to inspect my purchases, sat down beside me on
the sofa, and nestled her head against my shoulder.
"Fred, you are very good," she said. "It must have bothered you
terribly to get all those things--you, who are so busy. Everything is
lovely, and the latest and prettiest of its kind.
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