said the Commissioner, scrutinizing the cheek of the Man-Tamer—“wonderful how you can do it. But you talk of hearts and homes, and keep your face like a figure-head. It’s a good thing, Candituft, you ar’n’t in Siam. They’d put you in petticoats; they would, sir; for life—without hope of pardon, sir, for the term of your natural life. In petticoats.”

“Ugh!” cried Colonel Bones with a sneering grin, “shouldn’t a bit wonder. What for? Humph?”

“You see, Colonel, it is the custom of the king of Siam—or was, when I knew him, for let me be particular—it was his Majesty’s custom, when any of his ministers, or judges, or generals, or people of that sort of kidney persisted in doing or talking of matters they didn’t understand—not that I insinuate anything of the sort against our friend Candituft—by no means; don’t mistake me—it was the king’s custom, I say, to make his ministers, for the rest of their days, wear nothing else but the cast-off clothes of the oldest women in his dominions. When I left Siam, which is now—how time flies! a good while ago—there were three prime ministers, one chancellor of the exchequer, a chief justice, and two field marshals, all in old women’s petticoats, sir. And for life! What do you think of that?”

“For my part,” said Carraways, “I must think the old ladies much scandalised by the practice. But, Jericho, I want you”—

“Why, it isn’t Jericho!” cried Thrush, rushing up to our Man of Money, and laying hold of his coat with both hands—“It can’t be Jericho! Only a dividend of him. As I’m alive, you don’t look a shilling in the pound of yourself.”

“Looks, sir—looks,”—said Jericho, with a dignity that did his wife’s heart good—“are the cheats of the simple. If, however, I do look thin, be assured I’ve my own private reasons for it. May I have the pleasure, madam?”—and Jericho offered his arm to Miss Candituft, her brother having introduced[Pg 67] Jericho, and being with his sister introduced to Jericho’s wife and daughter in honourable return. Jericho made for a distant crowd, gathered about the juggler. “Very odd, madam, that people can’t keep their foolish opinions under their own hats,” said Jericho: and Miss Candituft—forewarned by a significant look, an emphatic whisper from her brother—jumped instantly to the like conclusion. Indeed Miss Candituft had very quickly gathered the Jericho family to her bunch of treasured friends: adding them readily as new flowers to chosen blossoms.

[Pg 67]

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