"
Elma blushed again, and Guy noticed in passing that she blushed
very prettily.
"And how's Sardanapalus?" she asked, in a somewhat hurried voice,
making an inartistic attempt to change the subject.
"Oh, Sardanapalus is all right," Guy answered, laughing. "Cyril
told me you had made friends with him, and weren't one bit afraid
of him. Most people are so dreadfully frightened of the poor old
creature."
"But he isn't old," Elma exclaimed, interrupting him with some
warmth. "He's in the prime of life. He's so glossy and beautiful.
I quite fell in love with him."
"And who is Sardanapalus?" Mrs. Clifford asked, with a vague maternal
sense of discomfort and doubt. "A dog or a monkey?"
"Oh, Sardanapalus, mother--didn't I tell you about him? "Elma cried
enthusiastically. "Why, he's just lovely and beautiful. He's such
a glorious green and yellow-banded snake; and he coiled around my
arm as if he'd always known me."
Mrs. Clifford drew back with a horror-stricken face, darting across
at her daughter the same stealthy sort of look she had given her
husband the night after Elma's adventure.
"A snake!" she repeated, aghast, "a snake! Oh, Elma! Why, you never
told me that. And he coiled round your arm.
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