“Oh, dear Sir Gloster,” she began hysterically (she would need all her fascinations now), “Lalla is so young” (only twenty-six). “She is easily worked upon, she is in great request; the burlesque would have fallen through--and it is for _such_ a good charity--if she had not, at the eleventh hour, consented to take a part.” “I cannot accept your excuses, my dear madam” (waving both fat hands, like the flappers of an angry seal). “I could never trust Miss Paske again. Imagine the future Lady Sandilands, displaying her arms--and, excuse me, her legs--in ungraceful antics for the amusement of any one who chose to pay two or three rupees. At the eleventh hour, I absolutely refuse to marry her!” “You are not afraid of a breach of promise case?” asked Mrs. Langrishe in despair. She was indeed dying in the last ditch. “Not in the least,” was the bold reply. “No man--no gentleman is compelled to marry an amateur mountebank! Oh, if my poor dear mother had been present this night, I believe the shock would have killed her! However, I am grateful for small mercies; I am thankful that I saw Miss Paske in her true colours, before it was too late!” “The invitations are out days ago; the trousseau is almost complete; the presents have come in shoals; the cake is actually in the house,--what _am_ I to do?” pleaded unhappy Mrs. Langrishe, in a transport of anguish. “I’m sure I don’t know. I wash my hands of the whole affair. I am going down to-morrow morning.” “To-morrow morning!” repeated the unfortunate lady. “Yes, I have no personal ill-will or ill-feeling against _you_, Mrs. Langrishe,” he continued, as if he were offering her some superb token of generosity. “It is not your fault, though I must confess that I always thought you rather spoiled Miss Paske. However, in the present instance, I hold you entirely blameless; but _noblesse oblige_--and I--a--really could not ask my mother, and friends, to receive a young a--a--lady--whose proper sphere is pantomime and--all that sort of thing!” And waving his adieux, with a large tremulous hand, he stalked out, and with him Mrs. Langrishe saw depart Lalla’s brilliant prospects, her own reputation as a clever woman, and the solid embodiment of an immense outlay of forbearance--flattery--and rupees. She sat for a long time over the dying wood fire, her face the colour of its ashes. At three o’clock in the morning Lalla (a true rake at heart) had not returned, and her impending interview was thus postponed for twelve hours. It was past three o’clock in the afternoon when Miss Paske sauntered into her aunt’s room. Mrs. Langrishe was prostrate, from the double effect of a sleepless night and a nervous headache.