Page:Bambi (1914).djvu/304

278 “Strange. That is what the author said, that it was a close portrait of a near friend.”

“What is it, about him, that you do not like?”

“Oh, I like him, in a way. But these reformers, idealists, thinking they can dream the world into Arcadia!”

Bambi’s clear laugh startled him.

“What amuses you so?” he asked, shortly.

“I suppose I rather like the idealist type.”

He looked at her closely.

“Good heavens, you don’t think I’m like that, do you?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“If I thought that I was that particular brand of idiot I’d learn bookkeeping and be a clerk,” was the reply.

“Maybe it isn’t you—maybe it is just man I recognize.”

“You can see how terribly clever the woman is—to set each of us accusing the other.”

“She is just a student of types, that’s all,” Bambi disparaged the lady.

So they began their co-partnership. The shyness, the appeal, the new self-conscious element Bambi had sensed in Jarvis gave way to the old mental