Phyllis of Philistia [37]
take no interest in the ravelings of wool as mediums of diversion--that we have our hearts set on mice. Oh, yes! it is much better to be straightforward in our speech--it is even sometimes better to be quite straight in our ways as well. It usually prevents misunderstanding. There is scarcely a subject that women may not talk about to men in the most direct way, nowadays. But about the question of championship----"
Here the door of the room was thrown open and Mr. Herbert Courtland was announced.
"I quite forgot to mention that Mr. Courtland was lunching with us to-day, Phyllis," said Ella, while shaking hands with her visitor. "Now you will have a chance of getting the slave-dealer's account of the whole business. Are you a slave-dealer, Bertie? If so, why don't you wear the usual broad-leaved hat of your order?"
"It is I who am the enslaved one," said Mr. Courtland, laying his hand to the left of the buttons of his white waistcoat and bowing the bow of the early years of the century, with a glance at each lady.
"What a pretty reminiscence of the age of artificiality!" said Ella; "and what an apt commentary upon the subject we were talking about, Phyllis! We were discussing the merits of directness in speech and straightness in every way. We were ridiculing the timid maid--all sandals and simper--of forty years ago. Why should men and women have ever taken the trouble to be affected? Let us go in to lunch and eat with the appetites of men and women of the nineties, not with the nibblings of society of the fifties. Come along, Phyllis. Mr. Courtland will tell us all about his dreadful goings on, his slave- dealings, his dynamitings. Have you seen that article in the--what's the name of the paper, Phyllis?"
"The /Spiritual Aneroid/," said Phyllis.
"I haven't been so fortunate," said he.
"Then we shall take the paper into the dining room with us, and place it before you. If you were guilty of the doings that the article details, you would do well to--to--well, to adopt the picturesque costume incidental to ruffianism--the linen jacket of the slave- trader, the mangy fur collar of the dynamity man of war. Have you ever trafficked in human beings, Mr. Courtland?"
"Well, yes," said he. "I have done a little in that way, I admit."
"And dynamite--have you ever massacred people with dynamite?" Ella continued.
"Well, when my dynamite exploded, the people who were in the immediate neighborhood were never just the same afterward," said he.
"Finally, did you allow yourself to be worshiped as God?" she asked.
"Yes, I got them to do that," he replied. "I have experienced all human sensations, including those of a god in working order."
"Then I hope you will make a good lunch. We begin with white-bait."
"I am quite satisfied to begin with white-bait," said he.
CHAPTER XIII.
EVEN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS DOESN'T MATTER MUCH.
"I did not intend to stay for lunch," said Phyllis, "but your overpowering will swept me along with it, Ella. But I hope you will let me say that I don't think you should jest about what is--what some people at any rate think very serious."
"Phyllis is of Philistia," said Ella, "and Philistia was always given to ordeal by champions. She thinks the attack made upon you by two missionaries in their newspaper organ quite disgraceful. It doesn't seem so disgraceful after all."
"I haven't seen the attack," said he. "But I feel it to be very good of Miss Ayrton to think it disgraceful."
"Of course I thought it disgraceful," said Phyllis, "and I came to Ella to talk it all over. The article accuses you of atrocities, and said that a question would shortly be put to the Minister of the Annexation Department in the House of Commons. Now, I know that there is nothing my father enjoys more than snubbing those detestable men who endeavor to get up a reputation for philanthropy, and temperance, and bimetallism, and other virtues, by putting questions on the paper; and he could, I think, ask some counter question in this particular case that would ridicule the original busybody."
Here the door of the room was thrown open and Mr. Herbert Courtland was announced.
"I quite forgot to mention that Mr. Courtland was lunching with us to-day, Phyllis," said Ella, while shaking hands with her visitor. "Now you will have a chance of getting the slave-dealer's account of the whole business. Are you a slave-dealer, Bertie? If so, why don't you wear the usual broad-leaved hat of your order?"
"It is I who am the enslaved one," said Mr. Courtland, laying his hand to the left of the buttons of his white waistcoat and bowing the bow of the early years of the century, with a glance at each lady.
"What a pretty reminiscence of the age of artificiality!" said Ella; "and what an apt commentary upon the subject we were talking about, Phyllis! We were discussing the merits of directness in speech and straightness in every way. We were ridiculing the timid maid--all sandals and simper--of forty years ago. Why should men and women have ever taken the trouble to be affected? Let us go in to lunch and eat with the appetites of men and women of the nineties, not with the nibblings of society of the fifties. Come along, Phyllis. Mr. Courtland will tell us all about his dreadful goings on, his slave- dealings, his dynamitings. Have you seen that article in the--what's the name of the paper, Phyllis?"
"The /Spiritual Aneroid/," said Phyllis.
"I haven't been so fortunate," said he.
"Then we shall take the paper into the dining room with us, and place it before you. If you were guilty of the doings that the article details, you would do well to--to--well, to adopt the picturesque costume incidental to ruffianism--the linen jacket of the slave- trader, the mangy fur collar of the dynamity man of war. Have you ever trafficked in human beings, Mr. Courtland?"
"Well, yes," said he. "I have done a little in that way, I admit."
"And dynamite--have you ever massacred people with dynamite?" Ella continued.
"Well, when my dynamite exploded, the people who were in the immediate neighborhood were never just the same afterward," said he.
"Finally, did you allow yourself to be worshiped as God?" she asked.
"Yes, I got them to do that," he replied. "I have experienced all human sensations, including those of a god in working order."
"Then I hope you will make a good lunch. We begin with white-bait."
"I am quite satisfied to begin with white-bait," said he.
CHAPTER XIII.
EVEN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS DOESN'T MATTER MUCH.
"I did not intend to stay for lunch," said Phyllis, "but your overpowering will swept me along with it, Ella. But I hope you will let me say that I don't think you should jest about what is--what some people at any rate think very serious."
"Phyllis is of Philistia," said Ella, "and Philistia was always given to ordeal by champions. She thinks the attack made upon you by two missionaries in their newspaper organ quite disgraceful. It doesn't seem so disgraceful after all."
"I haven't seen the attack," said he. "But I feel it to be very good of Miss Ayrton to think it disgraceful."
"Of course I thought it disgraceful," said Phyllis, "and I came to Ella to talk it all over. The article accuses you of atrocities, and said that a question would shortly be put to the Minister of the Annexation Department in the House of Commons. Now, I know that there is nothing my father enjoys more than snubbing those detestable men who endeavor to get up a reputation for philanthropy, and temperance, and bimetallism, and other virtues, by putting questions on the paper; and he could, I think, ask some counter question in this particular case that would ridicule the original busybody."