A Charming Fellow, Volume IITrollope, Frances Eleanor
General
A Charming Fellow, Volume II
Trollope, Frances Eleanor
Fiction
At that moment Algernon was wedged into a corner behind a fat old
gentleman, who was vainly struggling to extricate himself from the crowd
in front, by making a series of short plunges forward, the rebound of
which sent him back on to Algernon's toes with some violence. It was
very hot, and a young lady was singing out of tune in the adjoining
room; her voice floating over the murmur of conversation occasionally,
in a wailing long-drawn note. Altogether, it might have been suspected
by some persons that Mr. Ancram Errington was laughing at his hostess,
when he spoke of his position at that time as being one which called for
congratulation. But Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs was the sort of woman who
completely baffled irony by a serene incapability of perceiving it. And
she would sooner suspect you of maligning her, hating her, or insulting
her, than of laughing at her. To this immunity from all sense of the
ridiculous she owed her chief social successes; for there are occasions
when some obtuseness of the faculties is useful. Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs
tapped Algernon's arm lightly with her fan, as she answered, "Now Mr.
Errington, that's all very well with the outside world, but you
shouldn't make mysteries with us! I look upon you almost as a brother of
Orlando's, I do indeed."
"You're very kind, indeed, and I'm immensely obliged to you; but, upon
my word, I don't know what you mean by my making mysteries!"
"Oh, well, if you choose to keep your own counsel, of course you can do
so. I will say no more." Upon which Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs proceeded to say
a great deal more, and ended by plainly giving Algernon to understand
that the rumour of his engagement to Miss Castalia Kilfinane had been
pretty widely circulated during the last four or five weeks.
"Oh, Mrs. Machyn-Stubbs," said Algernon, laughing, "you surely never
believe more than a hundredth part of what you hear? There's Mr. Price
looking for me. I promised to walk home with him, it is such a lovely
night. Thank you, no; not any tea! Are you ever at home about four
o'clock? I shall take my chance of finding you. Good night."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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