MR. MARGARI
Mr. Margari had got on in the world. He was now a real gentleman who had a four-roomed domicile, paid house-rent, and had even gone the length of marrying. And can you guess the lady of his choice?—why it was no other than Miss Clementina. That worthy virgin was of just the proper age for him, moreover a cosy little bit of cash might safely be assumed to go with her, which exercised a strong attraction upon Mr. Margari—and goes to prove that iron is not the only metal susceptible of the influence of the magnet. The worthy maiden had persuaded her respected swain to abduct her from Hidvár, an enterprise which he had nobly performed while the lady of the house was travelling with her husband to Arad. It is true there was no necessity whatever for an elopement, for the baroness was very far from being one of those dragons in feminine shape who love to tear asunder hearts that are burning for each other. If Mr. Margari had respectfully solicited the hand of her lady-companion, there is no reason to suppose he would have sued in vain; but Clementina was far too romantic for anything so humdrum as that. She insisted that he should abduct her, at night too and through a window, although she had the key of every door close at hand.
So Margari had managed to set up as a gentleman and become his own master. Clementina's money bought the furniture and they even sported a musical clock.
Mr. Margari had a smoking-room all to himself, in which he did nothing all day but smoke his pipe. No more work for him now, no more copying of MSS. There the happy husband, dressed in a flowered dressing-gown, stretched himself out at full length on the sofa and blew clouds of smoke all around him out of his long csibuk, stuffed full with the best Turkish tobacco.
Clementina was always scolding him for putting his legs upon the sofa. It was a nasty habit she said, and not only unbecoming but expensive, because it ruined the furniture. Clementina, in fact, was scolding him all day; and this was very natural, for any woman who has been condemned to obsequious servility for thirty whole years and has silently endured the caprices of her betters all that time, when she sets up as a lady on her own account will do her best to compensate herself for this interminable suppression of her natural instincts. But Mr. Margari used only to laugh when his wife began nagging at him. "Alios jam vidi ego ventos, aliasque procellas," he would say. He was only too glad to have a home of his own at all.
"Don't worry, woman!" he would say with reference to the furniture, "when that's worn out, I'll buy some more. John Lapussa, Esq., will give me whatever I want."
"He may be fool enough to do so now," replied Clementina, "but just you wait till he has won his action against Madame Langai and has no further need of you, he won't care two pence for you then. I know Mr. John Lapussa."
"So do I," retorted Margari. "He has paid me hitherto to say what he tells me, he shall pay me hereafter for holding my tongue. John Lapussa, Esq., will have to take care that Margari has plenty to eat and decent clothes to put on, for, if Margari grows hungry, Margari will bite."
Mr. Margari spoke with an air of such impertinent assurance and blew about such clouds of smoke that Clementina began to respect him, and sat down on the sofa by his side, no doubt to protect her property. "If you hold his honour so completely in the palm of your hand," said she, "why don't you provide better for yourself and me? It is all very well for his honour to fork out now when you press him, but money goes and more is wanted. One of these days something will happen to him and he will die,—and you can't follow him to the moon."
This was indeed a hard nut for Margari to crack. One cannot squeeze much out of dead men. Such an impression did the remark make upon him that he took his feet off the sofa and sat bolt upright.