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Page 28
Among the most attractive ladies present was one for whose Erewhonian
name I can find no English equivalent, and whom I must therefore call
Miss La Frime. She was Lady President of the principal establishment for
the higher education of young ladies, and so celebrated was she, that
pupils flocked to her from all parts of the surrounding country. Her
primer (written for the Erewhonian Arts and Science Series) on the Art of
Man-killing, was the most complete thing of the kind that had yet been
done; but ill-natured people had been heard to say that she had killed
all her own admirers so effectually that not one of them had ever lived
to marry her. According to Erewhonian custom the successful marriages of
the pupils are inscribed yearly on the oak paneling of the college
refectory, and a reprint from these in pamphlet form accompanies all the
prospectuses that are sent out to parents. It was alleged that no other
ladies' seminary in Erewhon could show such a brilliant record during all
the years of Miss La Frime's presidency. Many other guests of less note
were there, but the lions of the evening were the two Professors whom we
have already met with, and more particularly Hanky, who took the Mayoress
in to dinner. Panky, of course, wore his clothes reversed, as did
Principal Crank and Professor Gabb; the others were dressed English
fashion.
Everything hung upon the hostess, for the host was little more than a
still handsome figure-head. He had been remarkable for his good looks as
a young man, and Strong is the nearest approach I can get to a
translation of his Erewhonian name. His face inspired confidence at
once, but he was a man of few words, and had little of that grace which
in his wife set every one instantly at his or her ease. He knew that all
would go well so long as he left everything to her, and kept himself as
far as might be in the background.
Before dinner was announced there was the usual buzz of conversation,
chiefly occupied with salutations, good wishes for Sunday's weather, and
admiration for the extreme beauty of the Mayoress's three daughters, the
two elder of whom were already out; while the third, though only
thirteen, might have passed for a year or two older. Their mother was so
much engrossed with receiving her guests that it was not till they were
all at table that she was able to ask Hanky what he thought of the
statues, which she had heard that he and Professor Panky had been to see.
She was told how much interested he had been with them, and how unable he
had been to form any theory as to their date or object. He then added,
appealing to Panky, who was on the Mayoress's left hand, "but we had
rather a strange adventure on our way down, had we not, Panky? We got
lost, and were benighted in the forest. Happily we fell in with one of
the rangers who had lit a fire."
"Do I understand, then," said Yram, as I suppose we may as well call her,
"that you were out all last night? How tired you must be! But I hope
you had enough provisions with you?"
"Indeed we were out all night. We staid by the ranger's fire till
midnight, and then tried to find our way down, but we gave it up soon
after we had got out of the forest, and then waited under a large
chestnut tree till four or five this morning. As for food, we had not so
much as a mouthful from about three in the afternoon till we got to our
inn early this morning."
"Oh, you poor, poor people! how tired you must be."
"No; we made a good breakfast as soon as we got in, and then went to bed,
where we staid till it was time for us to come to your house."
Here Panky gave his friend a significant look, as much as to say that he
had said enough.
This set Hanky on at once. "Strange to say, the ranger was wearing the
old Erewhonian dress. It did me good to see it again after all these
years. It seems your son lets his men wear what few of the old clothes
they may still have, so long as they keep well away from the town. But
fancy how carefully these poor fellows husband them; why, it must be
seventeen years since the dress was forbidden!"
We all of us have skeletons, large or small, in some cupboard of our
lives, but a well regulated skeleton that will stay in its cupboard
quietly does not much matter. There are skeletons, however, which can
never be quite trusted not to open the cupboard door at some awkward
moment, go down stairs, ring the hall-door bell, with grinning face
announce themselves as the skeleton, and ask whether the master or
mistress is at home. This kind of skeleton, though no bigger than a
rabbit, will sometimes loom large as that of a dinotherium. My father
was Yram's skeleton. True, he was a mere skeleton of a skeleton, for the
chances were thousands to one that he and my mother had perished long
years ago; and even though he rang at the bell, there was no harm that he
either could or would now do to her or hers; still, so long as she did
not certainly know that he was dead, or otherwise precluded from
returning, she could not be sure that he would not one day come back by
the way that he would alone know, and she had rather he should not do so.
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