After dressing and willing the two subjects also to assume their clothes, Papa and Mamma went away. Frank recalled Thomas and Harry to consciousness and bantered them about the games he had made them go through at his command. "Would you believe it? You did anything I ordered—sucking each other's pricks, and frigging each other, and doing exactly what I liked to order."
Neither of them would believe it, saying they had only been off for a very short time and that he had tumbled the bed to make believe what he said of them was true. At the same time both admitted having had very confused though pleasing dreams.
A few days after what has just been related, Harry Mortimer paid them another visit, which the family council had resolved should be a regular "mesmeric seance."
Besides their young friend they had invited the rector of the parish, Dr. Stroker, and his two nieces, Blanche and Ada Manners, very pretty brunettes of sixteen and fifteen.
The day passed delightfully on the grounds where they played croquet, or retired to the summer house for refreshment.
During the course of the afternoon Mamma and the parson took a walk by themselves. Mrs. Etheridge, with assumed unconsciousness, pointing out the beauties of the flowers, or calling his attention to the occasional glimpses of the sea, which they obtained through openings of the landscape, till they neared a rustic seat, where she declared she was so very fatigued she must rest awhile if the Doctor did not object.
Seating herself with a slight sigh of relief, she remarked, "How tiring the game of croquet always seemed," adding, "do you not think it is quite absurd for us old people to join with the young ones in such games?"
"My dear Madame," replied the Doctor, "we are always children as long as we live. We enjoy the games of youth with zest, even if we have not the same powers, and it is the same with love, which so enthralls us that I verily believe the older we get the more enthusiastic we become in its pursuit. Now confess, my dear Mrs. Etheridge, is it not so with you?"
"Fie, Doctor, pray don't take advantage of our secluded position to press that hopeless, wicked suit of yours. Besides, sir," she added with a laugh, "this is, you know, Saturday afternoon, and such thoughts can only be prompted by the devil to drive out of your mind all your ideas for to-morrow's sermon."
The parson now ventured to put his arm round that voluptuous waist, as he drew closer still to his lovely companion, saying, "No fear of that, my dear Madame. Can you guess what my text is to be to-morrow?"