"You were about to impart some information?"
"Has your little nun taken the black veil?"
"It is no nun of my shriving."
"Are you King Ahasuerus himself, to have lived so long in the house with
Miss Changarnier, may I ask, and to have thrown no handkerchief?"
"There is some confusion in your rhetoric. But it is not I who am
tyrant,--it is she who stands for that;--I am only Mordecai the Jew
sitting in the king's gate. As so many Jews do to-day," muttered St.
George,--"ay, and on their thrones, too. I am afraid we are neither of
us very well up in our Biblical history. She is the Grand
Unapproachable."
"_Tant mieux._ My way is all the clearer."
"Your way to what?"
"To the altar!"
"Yes, you should have married long ago, Marlboro'," said Mr. St. George,
the pipe being lighted, the face looming out of azure wreaths, and the
heels taking an altitude.
"I came home," said Marlboro', "to marry Eloise Changarnier."
"That is exactly what I intend to do myself."
"You!"
Mr. Marlboro's eyes glistened like a topaz in the sun; but just then a
new guest arriving demanded Mr. St. George's attention.
Meantime Eloise had found a feminine conclave assembled in her room, all
having prepared their own toilets, and ready to inspect the preparation
of hers; and as the work proceeded, Lottie Humphreys added herself to
the group, in grand _tenue_, and pushed Hazel aside, that she might bind
up Eloise's already braided hair, and indulge herself in the interim
with sundry fervent ejaculations.
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