The Equinox (Volume I, Number IV)

MY LADY OF THE BREECHES Oo THE FOOL “ WouLD you marry me, then?” the widow said. “Yes, of course!” the man replied. “You are a greater fool than I took you for.” “What do you mean?” he queried, vexed and puzzled. “Am I to take it that you had the intention—that you were prepared... ?” “Go on.” “T don’t know.” “T will be,” she said, repressing a merry chuckle, “ quite outspoken. I was preparedto...donothing. Had you formu- lated some reasonable request . . . well, it might have ended otherwise. But marriage! Whom do you take me for?” And the lady—she was dark-haired—whistled to her favourite monkey, a reddish animal, who bounded on her lap. Lionel Tabard left them both, in their inspiring contrast; never unfrowning his well-shaped but delusive brow. ‘A few days later, he attempted to kiss the whimsical widow, who then horse-whipped him, meaning to teach him—not manners, but a-propos. Then she laughed. But he proved unintelligent, and never repeated his insult. Hence a nasty nickname from her lips. 27