“As I said to Lady Hazeldean last night—­I hope Mr. Gladstone did not hear me, he was talking to Lady Engleton Dixon about divorce, I really hope he did not hear me—­but I really couldn’t help saying that I thought it would be better if he believed less in the divorce of nations, even if I may not add that he might with advantage believe more in the divorce of persons not suited to each other.”

When the conversation turned on Arabi, which it never failed to do in this house, the perfume-burners that had been presented to her and Mr. Young on their triumphal tour were pointed out.

“I telegraphed to Dilke,” said Sir Joseph, “’You must not hang that man.’  And when Mrs. Young accused him of not taking sufficient interest in Africa, he said—­’My dear Mrs. Young, I not interested in Africa!  You forget what I have done for Africa; how I have laboured for Africa.  I shall not believe in the synthesis of humanity, nor will it be complete, till we get the black votes.’”

“Mr. Young and Lord Granville used to have such long discussions about Buddhism, and it always used to end in Mr. Young sending a copy of your book to Lord Granville.”

“A very great distinction for me—­a very great distinction for me,” murmured Buddha; and allowing Mrs. Young to relieve him of his tea-cup, he said—­“and now, Mrs. Young, I want to ask for your support and co-operation in a little scheme—­a little scheme which I have been nourishing like a rose in my bosom for some years.”

Sir Joseph raised his voice; and it was not until he had imposed silence on his wife that he consented to unfold his little scheme.

Then the fat man explained that in a certain province in Cylone (a name of six syllables) there was a temple, and this temple had belonged in the sixth century to a tribe of Buddhists (a name of seven syllables), and this temple had in the eighth century been taken from the Buddhists by a tribe of Brahmins (a name of eight syllables).

“And not being Mr. Gladstone,” said Sir Joseph, “I do not propose to dispossess the Brahmins without compensation.  I am merely desirous that the Brahmins should be bought out by the Indian Government at a cost of a hundred and fifty or two hundred thousand.  If this were done the number of pilgrims to this holy shrine would be doubled, and the best results would follow.”

“Oh, Mrs. Jellaby, where art thou?” thought Mike, and he boldly took advantage of the elaborate preparations that were being made for Sir Joseph to write his name on a fan, to move round the table and take a seat by Lily.

But Frank’s patience was exhausted, and he rose to leave.

“People wonder at the genius of Shakespeare!  I must say the stupidity of the ordinary man surprises me far more,” said Mike.

“I’m a poor man to-day,” said Frank, “but I would give L25 to have had Dickens with us—­fancy walking up Piccadilly with him afterwards!