"I - I don't know how to," faltered Leonard, who
looked more scared and horrified than anyone.
"What!" shouted Colonel Hampton, "you've taken the
abominable liberty of turning my wife into a wolf, and
now you stand there
calmly and say you can't turn her
back again!"
To do
strict justice to Leonard,
calmness was not a
distinguishing feature of his attitude at the moment.
"I assure you I didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a
wolf; nothing was farther from my intentions," he
protested.
"Then where is she, and how came that animal into
the conservatory?" demanded the Colonel.
"Of course we must accept your
assurance that you
didn't turn Mrs. Hampton into a wolf," said Clovis
politely, "but you will agree that appearances are
against you."
"Are we to have all these recriminations with that
beast
standing there ready to tear us to pieces?" wailed
Mavis indignantly.
"Lord Pabham, you know a good deal about wild beasts
- " suggested Colonel Hampton.
"The wild beasts that I have been accustomed to,"
said Lord Pabham, "have come with proper credentials from
well-known dealers, or have been bred in my own
menagerie. I've never before been confronted with an
animal that walks unconcernedly out of an azalea bush,
leaving a
charming and popular
hostess unaccounted for.
As far as one can judge from OUTWARD characteristics," he
continued, "it has the appearance of a well-grown female
of the North American timber-wolf, a
variety of the
common
species CANIS LUPUS."
"Oh, never mind its Latin name," screamed Mavis, as
the beast came a step or two further into the room;
"can't you
entice it away with food, and shut it up where
it can't do any harm?"
"If it is really Mrs. Hampton, who has just had a
very good dinner, I don't suppose food will
appeal to it
very strongly," said Clovis.
"Leonard," beseeched Mrs. Hoops tearfully, "even if
this is none of your doing can't you use your great
powers to turn this
dreadful beast into something
harmless before it bites us all - a
rabbit or something?"
"I don't suppose Colonel Hampton would care to have
his wife turned into a
succession of fancy animals as
though we were playing a round game with her," interposed
Clovis.
"I
absolutelyforbid it," thundered the Colonel.
"Most wolves that I've had anything to do with have
been inordinately fond of sugar," said Lord Pabham; "if
you like I'll try the effect on this one."
He took a piece of sugar from the
saucer of his
coffee cup and flung it to the
expectant Louisa, who
snapped it in mid-air. There was a sigh of
relief from
the company; a wolf that ate sugar when it might at the
least have been employed in tearing macaws to pieces had
already shed some of its terrors. The sigh deepened to a
gasp of thanks-giving when Lord Pabham decoyed the animal
out of the room by a pretended largesse of further sugar.
There was an
instant rush to the vacated conservatory.
There was no trace of Mrs. Hampton except the plate
containing the macaws' supper.
"The door is locked on the inside!" exclaimed
Clovis, who had
deftly turned the key as he
affected to
test it.
Everyone turned towards Bilsiter.
"If you haven't turned my wife into a wolf," said
Colonel Hampton, "will you kindly explain where she has
disappeared to, since she
obviously could not have gone
through a locked door? I will not press you for an
explanation of how a North American timber-wolf suddenly
appeared in the conservatory, but I think I have some
right to inquire what has become of Mrs. Hampton."
Bilsiter's reiterated disclaimer was met with a
general murmur of
impatient disbelief.
"I refuse to stay another hour under this roof,"
declared Mavis Pellington.
"If our
hostess has really vanished out of human
form," said Mrs. Hoops, "none of the ladies of the party
can very well remain. I
absolutely decline to be
chaperoned by a wolf!"
"It's a she-wolf," said Clovis soothingly.
The correct
etiquette to be observed under the
unusual circumstances received no further elucidation.
The sudden entry of Mary Hampton deprived the discussion
of its immediate interest.
"Some one has mesmerised me," she exclaimed crossly;
"I found myself in the game larder, of all places, being
fed with sugar by Lord Pabham. I hate being mesmerised,
and the doctor has
forbidden me to touch sugar."
The situation was explained to her, as far as it
permitted of anything that could be called explanation.
"Then you REALLY did turn me into a wolf, Mr.
Bilsiter?" she exclaimed excitedly.
But Leonard had burned the boat in which he might
now have embarked on a sea of glory. He could only shake
his head feebly.
"It was I who took that liberty," said Clovis; "you
see, I happen to have lived for a couple of years in
North-Eastern Russia, and I have more than a tourist's
acquaintance with the magic craft of that region. One
does not care to speak about these strange powers, but
once in a way, when one hears a lot of
nonsense being
talked about them, one is tempted to show what Siberian
magic can accomplish in the hands of someone who really
understands it. I yielded to that
temptation. May I
have some
brandy? the effort has left me rather faint."
If Leonard Bilsiter could at that moment have
transformed Clovis into a cockroach and then have stepped
on him he would
gladly have performed both operations.
LAURA
"YOU are not really dying, are you?" asked Amanda.
"I have the doctor's
permission to live till
Tuesday," said Laura.
"But to-day is Saturday; this is serious!" gasped
Amanda.
"I don't know about it being serious; it is
certainly Saturday," said Laura.
"Death is always serious," said Amanda.
"I never said I was going to die. I am presumably
going to leave off being Laura, but I shall go on being
something. An animal of some kind, I suppose. You see,
when one hasn't been very good in the life one has just
lived, one reincarnates in some lower
organism. And I
haven't been very good, when one comes to think of it.
I've been petty and mean and vindictive and all that sort
of thing when circumstances have seemed to
warrant it."
"Circumstances never
warrant that sort of thing,"
said Amanda hastily.
"If you don't mind my
saying so," observed Laura,
"Egbert is a circumstance that would
warrant any amount
of that sort of thing. You're married to him - that's
different; you've sworn to love, honour, and
endure him:
I haven't."
"I don't see what's wrong with Egbert," protested
Amanda.
"Oh, I daresay the wrongness has been on my part,"
admitted Laura dispassionately; "he has merely been the
extenuating circumstance. He made a thin, peevish kind
of fuss, for
instance, when I took the
collie puppies
from the farm out for a run the other day."
"They chased his young broods of speckled Sussex and
drove two sitting hens off their nests, besides running
all over the flower beds. You know how
devoted he is to
his
poultry and garden."
"Anyhow, he needn't have gone on about it for the
entire evening and then have said, `Let's say no more
about it' just when I was
beginning to enjoy the
discussion. That's where one of my petty vindictive
revenges came in," added Laura with an unrepentant
chuckle; "I turned the entire family of speckled Sussex
into his
seedling shed the day after the puppy episode."
"How could you?" exclaimed Amanda.
"It came quite easy," said Laura; "two of the hens
pretended to be laying at the time, but I was firm."
"And we thought it was an accident!"
"You see," resumed Laura, "I really HAVE some
grounds for supposing that my next incarnation will be in
a lower
organism. I shall be an animal of some kind. On
the other hand, I haven't been a bad sort in my way, so I
think I may count on being a nice animal, something
elegant and
lively, with a love of fun. An otter,
perhaps."
"I can't imagine you as an otter," said Amanda.
"Well, I don't suppose you can imagine me as an
angel, if it comes to that," said Laura.
Amanda was silent. She couldn't.
"Personally I think an otter life would be rather
enjoyable," continued Laura; "salmon to eat all the year
round, and the
satisfaction of being able to fetch the
trout in their own homes without having to wait for hours
till they
condescend to rise to the fly you've been
dangling before them; and an
elegant svelte figure - "
"Think of the otter hounds," interposed Amanda; "how
dreadful to be hunted and harried and finally worried to
death!"
"Rather fun with half the neighbourhood looking on,
and anyhow not worse than this Saturday-to-Tuesday
business of dying by inches; and then I should go on into
something else. If I had been a
moderately good otter I
suppose I should get back into human shape of some sort;
probably something rather
primitive - a little brown,
unclothed Nubian boy, I should think."
"I wish you would be serious," sighed Amanda; "you
really ought to be if you're only going to live till
Tuesday."
As a matter of fact Laura died on Monday.
"So
dreadfully upsetting," Amanda complained to her
uncle-in-law, Sir Lulworth Quayne. "I've asked quite a
lot of people down for golf and
fishing, and the
rhododendrons are just looking their best."
"Laura always was inconsiderate," said Sir Lulworth;
"she was born during Goodwood week, with an Ambassador
staying in the house who hated babies."
"She had the maddest kind of ideas," said Amanda;
"do you know if there was any
insanity in her family?"
"Insanity? No, I never heard of any. Her father
lives in West Kensington, but I believe he's sane on all
other subjects."
"She had an idea that she was going to be
reincarnated as an otter," said Amanda.