Part 29 (1/2)

[_Extricating himself._] Oh! Mrs. Tidman! Go to your room!

GEORGIANA.

Augustin!

THE DEAN.

In the morning I will endeavor to frame some verbal expression of the horror with which I regard your proposal. For the present, you are my parents' child and I trust your bed is well aired.

GEORGIANA.

Oh, very well, Augustin. I've done all I can for the Spire. _Bon soir,_ old boy!

THE DEAN.

Good-night.

GEORGIANA.

If you're wiser in the morning just send Blore on to the course and he'll put the money on for you.

THE DEAN.

Blore! My poor devoted old servant would be lost on a race-course.

GEORGIANA.

Would he! He was quite at home in Tattersall's Ring when I was at St.

Marvells last summer.

THE DEAN.

Blore!

GEORGIANA.

Blore. I recognized the veteran sportsman the moment I came into the Deanery.

THE DEAN.

What was my butler doing at St. Marvells Races?

_BLORE enters with his lantern._

GEORGIANA.

Investing the savings of your cook and housemaid, of course. You don't think your servants are as narrow as you are!

THE DEAN.