Henry Aylwin, a kinsman of mine, whose
possessions in Little Egypt are as brilliant (judging from the
colours of his royal waggon) as are his possessions in Philistia.'
The woman made me a curtsey of much gravity. 'And allow me to
introduce _you_,' he said, turning to me, 'to the real original
Natura Mystica,--she who for ages upon ages has been trying by her
funny goings-on to teach us that "the _Principium hylarchicum_ of the
cosmos" (to use the simple phraseology of a great spiritualistic
painter) is the benign principle of joke.'
The woman made me another curtsey. 'You forget your exalted position,
Mrs. Gudgeon,' said Cyril; 'when a mystic goddess-queen is so
condescending as to curtsey she should be careful not to bend too
low. Man is a creature who can never with safety be treated with too
much respect.'
'We's all so modest in Primrose Court, that's the wust on us,'
replied the woman. 'But, Muster Cyril, sir, I don't think you've
noticed that the queen's _t'other_ eye's got dry now.'
Cyril gravely poured her out a glass of foaming ale from a bottle
that stood upon a little Indian bamboo-table, and handed it to her
carefully over the silks, saying to me,
'Her majesty's elegant way of hinting that she likes to wet both
eyes!'
Such foolery as this and at such a time irritated me sorely; but
there was no help for it now.
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