A brief silence suddenly recalled him to his duties as host, and he
caught quickly at the first topic which presented itself to his mind,
going back to the question of the _America_, which had been much
discussed because the funds to pay for it had been bequeathed to the
city by a woman of prominent social position.
"I suppose," he observed, turning to Hubbard, "that with two such
lights of the art world as Peter Calvin and Alfred Irons on the
committee, the new statue will be regarded as the flower of Boston
culture. Of all droll things," he added, "nothing could be funnier than
coupling those two men. It is more striking than the lion and the lamb
of Scriptural prophecy."
"Who is the lion and who the lamb?" asked Candish.
"It is your place to apply Scripture, not mine," retorted Fenton.
"I represent the minority of the committee," was Hubbard's reply to his
host's question. "There is no other position so safe in matters of art
as that of an objector."
"That is because art appeals to the most sensitive of human
characteristics," Arthur retorted smiling,--"human vanity."
"Vanity?" echoed Mrs. Hubbard.
"That from you?" exclaimed Miss Mott.
"Really, Mr. Fenton," protested Miss Penwick, in accents of real
concern, "you shouldn't say such a thing; there are so many people who
would suppose you meant it."
The simple old creature knew no more of the real meaning of art than
she did of that of the hieroglyphics on an Egyptian obelisk, but she
had lectured on it, and she felt for it the deep reverence common to
those who label their superstition with the name "culture.
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