“Disgraceful,” he said, “perfectly disgraceful. The fellow’s drunk, I say. Just look at that. Vintage Port, and he’s been drinking it out of a tumbler. Perfectly disgraceful. Show me the way out.” I rose to my feet and caught sight of Miss Moonbeam’s brothers. “Give me that bottle,” I cried. “Give me the tails of my coat. Who says I’m drunk? Where’s the Portugalade? Take that man away. Where’s Miss Moonbeam?” “But he’s my father,” she said. I tried to stare at her. But her face kept advancing and retreating. “Stand still, woman,” I cried. “But his name’s Maidstone.” “So’s mine,” she said, “when I’m not acting.” I snatched at her wrist, but it proved to be my own. “Do you mean to say,” I asked, “that you’re Mary Maidstone?” “Polly Maidstone,” she said. “Don’t you remember? The same Polly that made a face at you.” I sank to the floor for a moment, but rose on my hands again. “Throw her out,” I yelled. “Throw that woman out.” She looked at Ezekiel. “Hadn’t we better take him home?” she asked. “But I haven’t made my speech,” I said, “speech to the meeting.” Ezekiel stared at me with incredible bitterness. “There isn’t a meeting left,” he said, “to make a speech to.” I pointed at the clocks. They were all at half-past nine. “But we’ve hardly begun,” I said. “Where’s the platform?” Mr. Maidstone bent over me——[15] Footnote 15: See conclusion of Chapter VIII. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER XVII Profound depression subsequent to port-poisoning. An iniquitous plot and its consequences. Insubordination of Miss Botterill. I retire from the firm of Mr. Chrysostom Lorton. A crushing rejoinder and its repetition. Second journey to Enfield. Transformation of Mrs. Chrysostom’s boudoir. Unexpected repentance of Mrs. Chrysostom. Unfortunate results of this for myself. Fruitless termination of interview. SUCH was the cross that had suddenly been imposed upon me—a cross so gigantic and of such a character that only the most prolonged and assiduous training could have enabled me to bear it. Indeed, for some little time it seemed only too likely that it would prove too crushing even for me; and had not Nature intervened with a period of merciful unconsciousness, this would almost certainly have been the case. Fortunately I arrived home, however, as my father has assured me, in a deep though stertorous slumber, and did not awake until nearly eleven o’clock on the following Monday morning. There was thus accorded me an opportunity for the recuperation of those vital reserves that would even then, as I slowly began to realize, be desperately hard put to it to give me adequate support.