"I am really afraid I shall have to restrain my enthusiasm," she wrote in one of these letters. "I am almost certain that Mamma's improvement and desire to linger here are largely due to her conviction that so long as I am here you are safe from the baleful Amanita, not to mention myself. Besides, it is a little risky, sometimes, and one has to know a very great deal to be certain. I have had a lot of time to study the book here, and have attended a few lectures on the subject. Among other things I have learned that certain Amanitas are not poison, even when they have the cup. One in particular that I thought deadly is not only harmless, but a delicacy which the Romans called 'Cæsar's mushroom,' and of which one old epicure wrote, 'Keep your corn, O Libya--unyoke your oxen, provided only you send us mushrooms.'" She went on to set down the technical description from the text-book and a simple rule for distinguishing the varieties, adding, "I don't suppose you will gather any before my return--you would hardly risk such a thing without my superior counsel--but should you do so, keep the rule in mind. It is taken word for word from the book, so if anything happens to you while I am gone, either you or the book will be to blame--not I. When I come back--if I ever do--I mean to try at least a sample of that epicurean delight, which one old authority called 'food of the gods,' provided I can find any of them growing outside of that gruesome 'Devil's Garden.'"
Frank gave no especial attention to this portion of her letter. His interest in mushrooms was confined chiefly to the days when Constance could be there to expatiate on them in person.
In another letter she referred to their adventure on the mountain, and to the fact that Frank would be likely to see Robin before her return.
"You may tell Robin Farnham," she said, "about our visit to the hermit, and of the message he sent. Robin may be going in that direction very soon, and find time to stop there. Of course you will be careful not to let anything slip about the tale he told us. I am sure it would make no difference, but I know you will agree with me that his wishes should be sacred. Dear me, what a day that was, and how I did love that wonderful house! Here, among all these people, in this big modern hotel, it seems that it must have been all really enchantment. Perhaps you and Robin could make a trip up there together. I know, if there truly is a hermit, he will be glad to see you again. I wonder if he would like to see _me_ again. I brought up all those sad memories. Poor old man! My sympathy for him is deeper than you can guess."