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Updated: June 21, 2025
Futvoye, who was now thoroughly awake. "Oh dear, no," said Horace; "I engaged her at at Harrod's the Entertainment Bureau. They told me there she was rather good struck out a line of her own, don't you know. But perfectly correct; she she only does this to support an invalid aunt."
But the Professor turned his back in so pointed and ominous a manner that Horace judged it better to withdraw without insisting further. "I'm afraid," he said to Mrs. Futvoye, after they had rejoined Sylvia in the drawing-room "I'm afraid your husband is still a little sore with me about this miserable business."
"Your ah groom of the chambers," said the Professor, "seems to have decided that we should dine here. I observe they are making signs to you that the food is on the table." "So it is," said Ventimore. "Shall we sit down?" "But, my dear Horace," said Mrs. Futvoye, "your butler has forgotten the chairs."
Clearly Fakrash was determined that nothing should be wanting to make the entertainment a complete success. "What a very extraordinary noise!" said Mrs. Futvoye; "surely they can't mean it for music?" "Yes, they do," said Horace; "it it's really more harmonious than it sounds you have to get accustomed to the er notation. When you do, it's rather soothing than otherwise."
The noiseless and uncanny attendants, whom he did not know whether to regard as Efreets, or demons, or simply illusions, but whose services he had no wish to retain, had all withdrawn. Mrs. Futvoye was peacefully slumbering, and her husband was in a better humour than he had been all the evening.
"Seba of El-Yemen the country of Bilkees, the Queen beloved of Suleyman," said the Jinnee. "It is an excellent suggestion, and I will follow it without delay." "But you won't forget to look in on Professor Futvoye to-morrow, will you?" "Assuredly I will not. And now, ere I depart, tell me if there be any other service I may render thee." Horace hesitated.
"At least, I may see Sylvia?" he pleaded. "No," said Mrs. Futvoye; "I really can't have Sylvia disturbed just now. She is very busy, helping her father. Anthony has to read a paper at one of his societies to-morrow night, and she is writing it out from his dictation."
"Miss Futvoye and I," Horace answered for her, "are willing to consider our engagement at an end, until you approve of its renewal, on condition that you restore her father at once." "Agreed!" said Fakrash. "Conduct me to him, and we will arrange the matter without delay." Outside they met Mrs. Futvoye on her way from the study. "You here, Horace?" she exclaimed. "And who is this gentleman?"
If on that Saturday afternoon there was a happier man than Horace Ventimore, he would have done well to dissemble his felicity, for fear of incurring the jealousy of the high gods. When Mrs. Futvoye returned, as she did only too soon, to find her daughter and Horace seated on the same sofa, she did not pretend to be gratified.
And he told her of the sudden alteration in his prospects. "Well," said Mrs. Futvoye, "you had better speak to my husband about it." The Professor came in shortly afterwards, and Horace immediately requested a few minutes' conversation with him in the study, which was readily granted.
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