Disregarding the new husband's presence,
I rang the bell, and the servant who had left her kitchen on
hearing the scream entered immediately.
"Go to your mistress. She is ill," said I.
The maid hurriedly departed. The parson and I looked at one
another.
"I am afraid," said I, "that my presence is unhappily an
intrusion. I hope to make your better acquaintance on another
occasion."
"Oh, please don't go," said he, "my wife is only a little upset
and will soon recover. I beg that you will excuse her. Besides,
I should like to have a talk with you."
He offered me a chair, my own chair, the comfortable, broad-
seated Empire chair I had given Judith as a birthday present
years ago, the chair in which I had invariably sat. He did it
with the manner of the master of the house, a most courteous
gentleman. The situation was fantastic. Some ingenious devil
must have conceived it by way of pandering to the after-dinner
humour of the high gods. As I sat down I rubbed my eyes. Was
this brown-whiskered, bald-headed clerical gentleman real? The
rubbing of my eyes dispelled no hallucination.
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