“Pardon me, Madam,” said Father TIME, somewhat rashly, “are we not here on the planet Venus? and have I not somewhere heard strange tales of what was done by ——?”
But CALLISTA interrupted him. She smiled a beautiful smile.
“Ah, yes,” she said, “those stories are of the vanished past. Now we blush even to think they might once have been true;” and surely enough the whole charming assemblage became suffused with the prettiest imaginable blush. “I will speak plainly with you,” continued the Queen; “for plain speech is best. No men live here. Therefore, we dwell in peace. But we permit the fairest and best among our number to descend from time to time to earth, and to dwell there in mortal shapes for awhile. You may have seen them,” she went on, mentioning some names well known to Mr. Punch. “They are allowed to marry; but only the wisest and noblest men may approach them. On earth their will is free, and sometimes, alas, they fall away from righteousness, and pass through bitter tribulation.”
“Yes,” said the Fleet Street Sage, “We call it the Divorce Court—your Majesty will pardon the rough speech of an old man—and, somehow, we don’t seem able to get on without it. But here, of course, you have no such institution?”
“No,” replied the Queen. “There once was such a court among us, hundreds of years ago, ere we had banished the men from our midst. Now, however, we use the building in which petitions used to be heard as our chief College. Come hither, ZOE,” she proceeded, addressing a sweet little girl of about fifteen. “Tell this wise gentleman your solution of that pretty question relating to the concomitants of a system of ternary quadrics.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, ZOE stated the question, and, what is more, solved it with absolute correctness.
“Marvellous!” said Mr. Punch. “I congratulate you.”
“CYNTHIA,” said the Queen, beckoning with her rosy fingers to another maiden, “will you recite to me your Pindaric Ode on the late foot-race?”
CYNTHIA at once complied, and Mr. Punch listened in amazement to the resounding lines of an ode worthy of the great Greek. “Nor do we confine ourselves to such accomplishments,” the Queen went on. “We all sew perfectly, our knitting is universally admired, and our classes on the Management of Domestic Servants, or the true theory of Making Both Ends Meet are always largely attended. Moreover, we do not neglect the body. Some play at ball, some even form elevens for cricket, others fence or play your Scotch game, or even lawn-tennis, and all dance gracefully. See!” she cried, clapping her hands, “they shall show you.”
[Illustration]
At this signal delicious music burst forth in a strange measure, swaying, rhythmical, and delightful. The maidens enlaced one another, and moved across the floor in perfect time. Their bodies seemed to float rather than tread the ground, as they passed the spell-bound visitors. The dance ceased as suddenly as it began.