“But, my love, think of Sir Tiglath! I dare not declare myself. He
will be here at any moment, and he has sworn to kill me, if I’m not an
American syndicate!”
“Rubbish!”
“But, my--”
“Rubbish! That’s only what Mr. Vivian says.”
“Well, but--”
“Besides, you can put on your _toga virilibus_ and knock him down. It’s
no use talking to me, Jupiter.”
“I know it isn’t, my darling, I know. But--”
“If you don’t declare yourself I shall declare yourself for you this
very moment. I will not endure to be left in the corner while all these
nobodies are being truckled to. Bernard Wilkins, indeed! A prophet
we wouldn’t so much as recognise to be a prophet, and that there Mrs.
Eliza--people from the Wick going down to supper in front of us, and
a man from the Butts put before you! It’s right down disgusting, and I
won’t have it.”
It was exactly at this point in the matrimonial conference that Lady
Enid and Sir Tiglath Butt, shaking themselves free of Mrs. Eliza and
Verano, bore down upon Mr. and Madame Sagittarius, who were so busily
engaged in disputation that they did not perceive that anyone was near
until Lady Enid touched Mr. Sagittarius upon the arm.
That gentleman started violently and, on perceiving Sir Tiglath Butt,
who was positively sputtering with wrath at the palmistic attentions
paid to him by Verano, shrank against his wife, who pushed him
vigorously from her, and, getting upon her feet, announced in a loud
voice,--
“Very well, Jupiter, since you won’t declare yourself I shall go at once
to the woman Bridgeman and declare yourself for you!”
And with this remark she scowled at Lady Enid and walked majestically
away, tossing her head vehemently at Mrs. Eliza and Verano as she swept
into the adjoining drawing-room.
“Dear me,” said Lady Enid, with great curiosity. “Dear me, Mr.
Sagittarius, is your wife going to make a declaration? This is most
interesting!”
And, moved by her besetting idiosyncrasy, she added to the astronomer,
“Excuse me,” Sir Tiglath, “I’ll be back in one moment!” and glided
swiftly away in the wake of Madame, leaving Mr. Sagittarius and his
deadliest foe _tete-a-tete_.
“Is this a madhouse, sir?” cried Sir Tiglath, on being thus abandoned.
“The old astronomer demands to know at once if one is, or is not, in a
vast madhouse?”
“I don’t know, sir, indeed,” replied Mr. Sagittarius. “I should not like
to express an opinion on the point. If you will excu--”
“Sir, the old astronomer will not excuse you,” roared Sir Tiglath,
forcibly preventing Mr. Sagittarius, who was pale as ashes, from
escaping into the farther room. “He will not be run away from by
everybody in this manner.”
“I beg pardon, sir, I had no intention of running away,” said Mr.
Sagittarius, making one last despairing effort to assume his _toga
virilibus_.
“Then why did you do it, sir? Tell the old astronomer that!” cried Sir
Tiglath, seizing him by the arm. “And tell him, moreover, what you and
the old female Bridgeman have been about together?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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