CHAPTER XLIII.
"I saw pale kings, and princes, too; Pale warriors, death-pale were they all, They cried, 'La Belle Dame, sans merci,' Hath thee in thrall." The long penance of dinner is over at last, thank God! I may intermit my hopeless roarings, melancholy as those of any caged zoological beast.
Roger and Zephine must also fain suspend their reminiscences.

There being no lady of the house, I have taken upon myself to hasten the date of our departure.

Before Mrs.Zephine has finished her last grape, I have swept her incontinently away into the drawing-room.

But I might as well have let it alone: almost before you could say "Knife" they are after us.

I suppose that when three are eager to come, and only two anxious to stay--( I acquit my old friend and his nephew of any over-hurry to rejoin us)--the three must needs get their way.