RODERICK HUDSON
and the swaying crowd and the whole great shining summer scene with the eye of the artist and of the lover of displayed life. For Rowland meanwhile the time passed well; Cecilia's visitor held his attention fast. Whenever Hudson surpassed himself in confidence or in magniloquence his hostess broke into a long, light, ambiguous laugh.
"Do you find me more of a fool than usual?" the young man then demanded. "Have I said any thing so ridiculous?"
"Go on, go on," Cecilia replied. "You 're but too much your wondrous self. Show Mr. Mallet how Mr. Striker read the Declaration of Independence on the 4th of July."
Hudson, like many men with a turn for the plastic arts, was an excellent mimic, and he represented with equal truth and drollery the accent and attitude of a pompous country lawyer sustaining the burden of this heavy honour of our national festival. The sonorous twang, the seesaw gestures, the patriotic pronunciation were vividly reproduced. But Cecilia's manner and the young man's quick response ruffled a little poor Rowland's responsible mind. He wondered if his cousin were not sacrificing the faculty of reverence in her bright beneficiary to her need for amusement. Hudson made no serious rejoinder to Rowland's compliment on his statuette until he rose to go. Rowland judged he would have forgotten it, and supposed the oversight to be a sign of the indifference of conscious power. But Hudson stood a moment before he said good-night, twirled his sombrero and hesitated for
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