eemed that Mrs. Eliott and her
dinner were doomed to failure; so terrible a cloud had fallen on her, and
on her husband, and on every guest. Never had the poor priestess appeared
so abstract an essence, so dream-driven and so forlorn. Never had Mr.
Eliott worn his mask to so extinguishing a purpose. Never had Miss
Proctor been so obtrusively superior, Mrs. Gardner so silent, Dr. Gardner
so vague. They were all, she could see, possessed, crushed down by their
consciousness of Majendie and his monstrous past.

Into this circle, thus stupefied by his presence, Majendie burst with the
courage of unconsciousness.

Mr. Eliott had started a topic, the conduct of Sir Rigley Barker, the
ex-member for Scale. A heavy ball of conversation began to roll slowly up
and down the table, between Mr. Eliott and Dr. Gardner. Majendie snatched
at it deftly as it passed him, caught it, turned it in his hands till it
grew golden under his touch. Mr. Eliott thought there wasn't much in poor
Sir Rigley.

"Not much in him?" said Majendie. "How about that immortal speech of
his?"

"Immortal--" echoed Mr. Eliott dubiously.

"Indestructible! The poor fellow couldn't end it. It simply coiled and
uncoiled itself and went off, in great loops, into eternity. It began in
all innocence--naturally, as it was his maiden speech--when he rose,
don't you know, to propose an amendment. I take it that speech was so
maidenly that it shrank from anything in the nature of a proposal. It
went on in a terrified manner, coyly considering and hesitating--till it
cleared the House. And he was awfully pleased when we congratulated him
on his 'maidenly reserve.'"

"How did he ever get elected?" said Miss Proctor.

"My dear lady, it was a glorious stroke of the Opposition. They withdrew
their candidate when he contested the election. Of course, they felt that
he'd only got to make a speech and there'd be a dissolution. You simply
saw Parliament melting away before him. If he'd gone on he'd have worn
out the British constitution."

Dr. Gardner looked at Mrs. Gardner and their eyes brightened, as Majendie
continued to unfold the amazing resources of Sir Rigley. He breathed on
the ex-member like a god, and played with him like a juggler; he tossed
him into the air and kept him there, a radiant, unsubstantial thing. The
ex-member disported himself before Mrs. Eliott's dinner-party as he had
never disported himself in Parliament. Majendie had given him a career,
endo