SCENE V.--_The Dining-room; walls distempered chocolate; gaselier with
opal-tinted globes; two cast-iron Cavaliers holding gas-lamps on the
mantel-piece. Oil-portrait, enlarged from photograph, of_ Mrs.
TIDMARSH, _over side-board; on other walls, engravings--"Belshazzar's
Feast," "The Wall of Wailing at Jerusalem," and_ DORÉ'S _"Christian
Martyrs." The guests have just sat down_; Lord STRATHSPORRAN _is
placed between_ Miss SEATON _and his hostess, and opposite_ Mr.
GILWATTLE.
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). Deuced quaint-looking people--wish they
wouldn't all eat their soup at me! Why can't somebody say something? Wonder
who's the Lady in black, all over big silver tears--like a foreign funeral.
Don't feel equal to talking to MARJORY again till I've had some Sherry.
(_After sipping it._) Wormwood, by Jove! Champagne will probably be
syrup--touch old GILWATTLE up if he isn't careful--ah, _he_ jibs at the
Sherry!
_Uncle Gab._ Where the dickens did MONTY get this stuff, MARIA? Most
'strordinary bitter taste!
_Mrs. Tid._ (_to herself, in an agony_). I _knew_ that bottle of GWENNIE'S
Quinine Wine had got down into the cellar _somehow_! (_Aloud._) Don't drink
it, Uncle, please, if it isn't _quite_ what you like!
_Uncle Gab._ I'll take his Lordship's opinion. What do _you_ think of this
Sherry, my Lord? Don't you find it rather--eh?
_Lord Strath._ (_observing his hostess frown at him imperiously_). Oh,
excellent, Sir--very--er--mellow and agreeable!
_Uncle Gab._ Ha--yes--now your Lordship mentions it, there's a sort of
nuttiness about it.
[_He empties his glass._
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). There is--a _rotten_-nuttiness! I'm hanged
if he hasn't bolted it! Wonderful old Johnny!
_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him, in an under-tone_). You said _quite_ the right thing!
_Lord Strath._ (_ambiguously_). Oh, not at all!
[_Turbot and lobster-sauce are taken round, and conversation becomes
general._
_Conversational Scraps._ Assure you if I touch the smallest particle of
lobster it instantly flies to my.... Yes, _alive_. A dear friend of mine
positively had to leave her lodgings at the seaside--she was so disturbed
by the screams of the lobsters being boiled in the back-kitchen.... I was
reading only the other day that oysters' hearts continue to beat down to
the very moment they are being assimilated.... _What_ they must suffer,
poor dears! Couldn't there be a law that they should only be eaten under
chloroform, or something?... I _never_ get tired of turbot--cod, now, I
_don't_ care for, and salmon I _like_--but I can't digest--_why_, is more
than I can tell you.--(&c.)
[Illustration: "Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_ glass, as he wishes
it."]
_Miss Seaton._ (_to herself._) To see DOUGLAS here a--a _paid
parasite_--and actually seeming to _enjoy_ his food--it's like some
dreadful nightmare--I _can't_ believe it! But I'm glad he hasn't the face
to speak to me!
_Lord Strath._ (_to_ SEAKALE _offering Hock._) If you please. (_To himself,
after tasting._) Why, it's quite decent! I begin to feel up to having this
out with MARJORY. (_Aloud._) Miss SEATON, isn't it rather ridiculous for
two such old friends as we are to sit through dinner in deadly silence?
Can't you bring yourself to talk to me? we shan't be overheard. You might
tell me _why_ you think me such a ruffian--it would start us, at any rate!
_Miss Seaton._ I don't _want_ to be started--and if you really don't know
why I hate your coming here in this way, Lord STRATHSPORRAN, it's useless
to explain!
_Lord Strath._ Oh, we got as far as that upstairs, didn't we? And I may be
very dense, but for the life of me I can't see yet why I shouldn't have
come! Of course, I didn't know I was in for _this_ exactly, but, to tell
you the truth, I'm by way of being here on business, and I didn't care much
whether they were cheery or not, so long as I got what I _came_ for, don't
you know!
_Miss Seaton._ Of course, that is the main thing in your eyes--but I didn't
think you would confess it!
_Lord Strath._ Why, you know how keen I used to be about my Egyptian
work--you remember the book on Hieroglyphs I always meant to write? I'm
getting on with it, though of course my time's a good deal taken up just
now. And, whether I get anything out of these people or not, I've met _you_
again, MARJORY--I don't mind anything else!
_Miss Seaton._ Don't remind me of--of what you used to be, and--and you are
not to call me MARJORY any more. We have met--and I only hope and pray we
may never meet again. Please don't talk any more!
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) That's a facer! I wonder if MARJORY'S
quite--is this the effect of that infernal influenza?
_Mrs. Tid._ (_to him in an under-tone_). You and Miss SEATON appear to be
on very familiar terms. I really feel it my duty to ask you when and how
you made the acquaintance of my daughter's governess.
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself_). The governess! That explains a lot. Poor
little MARJORY! (_Aloud._) Really? I congratulate you. I had the honour of
knowing Miss SEATON in Scotland a year or two ago, and this is the first
time we have met since.
_Mrs. Tid._ Indeed? That is _so far_ satisfactory. I hope you will
understand that, so long as Miss SEATON is in my employment, I cannot allow
her to--er--continue your acquaintanceship--it is not as if you were in a
position----
_Lord Strath._ (_with suppressed wrath._) Forgive me--but, as Miss SEATON
shows no desire whatever to renew my acquaintance, I don't see that we need
discuss my position, or hers either. And I must decline to do so.
_Mrs. Tid._ (_crimsoning._) Oh, very _well_. I am not accustomed to be told
what subjects I am to discuss at my own table, but (_scathingly_) no doubt
your _position here_ gives you the right to be independent--ahoo!
_Lord Strath._ I venture to think so. (_To himself._) Can't make this woman
out--is she trying to be rude, or what?
_Uncle Gab._ Hullo, your Lordship's got no Champagne! How's that? It's all
_right_--"FIZZLER, '84," my Lord!
_Lord Strath._ I daresay--but the fact is, I am strictly forbidden to touch
it.
_Uncle Gab._ Pooh!--if your Lordship will excuse the remark--_this_ won't
do you any harm--comes out of my own cellar, so I _ought_ to know. (_To_
SEAKALE.) Here, you, fill his Lordship's glass, d'ye hear?
_Mrs. Tid._ (_in a rapid whisper._) Don't make a fuss--you can take _one_
glass as he wishes it!
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Can I though? If she imagines I'm going to
poison myself to please her uncle! (SEAKALE _gives him half a glass, after
receiving a signal from_ Mrs. T.) I suppose I must just----(_After
tasting._) Why it's _dry_! Then why the deuce was I cautioned not to----?
_Uncle Gab._ That's a fine wine, isn't it, my Lord? Not much of _that_ in
the market nowadays, I can tell you!
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) Precious little _here_. (_Aloud._) So I
should imagine, Sir.
_Uncle Gab._ Your Lordship mustn't pass this _entrée_. My niece's cook
knows her business, I will say that for her.
_Lord Strath._ (_as he helps himself._) I have already discovered that she
is an artist.
_Mrs. Tid._ (_in displeased surprise._) Then you know my cook _too_? An
_artist_? and she seems such a _respectable_ person! Pray what sort of
pictures does she paint?
_Lord Strath._ Pictures? Oh, really I don't know--potboilers probably.
[Mrs. TID. _glares at him suspiciously_.
_Conversational Scraps._ And when I got into the hall and saw them all
sitting in a row with their faces blacked, I said "I'm sure _they_ can't be
the Young Men's Christian Association!"... Hysteria? my poor dear wife is a
dreadful sufferer from it--I've known her unable to sleep at all except
with one foot curled round her neck!... (&c. &c.)
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself._) There's no doubt about it--this woman _is_
trying to snub me--hardly brings herself to talk at all--and _then_ she's
beastly rude! What did she ask me here _for_ if she can't be civil! If she
wasn't my hostess--I'll try her once more, she may know something about
antiquities--(_Aloud._) I suppose Mr. CARTOUCHE keeps his collection in a
separate room? I was told he has some hunting scarabs of the Amenhoteps
that I am very curious to see.
_Mrs. Tid._ (_stiffly_). Mr. CARTOUCHE may keep all sorts of disagreeable
pets, for anything _I_ know to the contrary.
_Lord Strath._ (_to himself, in amazement_). Pets! I'm hanged if I let
myself be snubbed like this! (_Aloud._) I'm afraid you have very little
sympathy with his tastes?
_Mrs. Tid._ Sympathy, indeed! I don't even know if he _has_ any tastes. I
am not in the habit of troubling myself about my next-door neighbour's
affairs.
_Lord Strath._ (_with a gasp_). Your next-door----! (_He pulls himself
together._) To be sure--of course not--stupid of me to ask! (_To himself._)
Good Heavens!--these _aren't_ the CARTOUCHES! I'm _at the wrong
dinner-party_--and this awful woman thinks I've done it on purpose! No
wonder she's so confoundedly uncivil!... And MARJORY knows it, too, and
won't speak to me! Perhaps they _all_ know it.... What on earth am I to
do?... I feel such a fool!
_Miss Seaton_ (_to herself_). How perfectly _ghastly_ DOUGLAS is looking!
Didn't he _really_ know the CARTOUCHES lived next door?... Then--_oh_, what
an idiot I've been! It's a mistake--he _doesn't_ come from BLANKLEY'S at
all! I _must_ speak to him--I must tell him how----no, I _can't_--I forgot
how horrid I've been to him! I should have to tell him I believed
_that_--and I'd rather die! No, it's too late--it's too late now!
[Miss SEATON _and_ Lord STRATHSPORRAN _sit regarding the tablecloth
with downcast eyes, and expressions of the deepest gloom and
confusion_.
(_End of Scene V._)
* * * * *
Rhyme by a Rad.
[The question where the Liberal-Unionists shall sit has excited some
discussion.]
They have stolen the old Tory togs bit by bit,
And we wish they would openly don them.
However, it matters not much _where_ they sit,
For wherever it be we'll sit _on_ them!
* * * * *
"RAILWAY RATES."--Whatever question there may be on this subject, there can
be none whatever as to the rates at which "The Bournemouth Express," "The
Granville L. C. & D.," and "The Flying Dutchman," severally travel. Such
rates are first rate.
* * * * *
CON. FOR THE CONSOLATION OF THE MANY SUFFERERS FROM A CURRENT
CATCH-WORD.--_Q._ What is the only thing that is _really_
"up-to-date"?--_A._ A palm-tree.
* * * * *
MEM. FOR MR. VIVIAN AND THE ROYALISTS.--The Last of the STUARTS,--STUART
_KNILL_. There can be none after _Nil_.
* * * * *