England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Lawyers -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
XXIX. TEARS AND A SMILE 264
XXX. A VARIETY SHOW 274
XXXI. START AND FINISH 284
XXXII. WISDOM CONFOUNDED 294
XXXIII. A NEW VISION 304
XXXIV. THE LINES OF LIFE 314
XXXV. HILSEY AND ITS FUGITIVE 324
XXXVI. IN THE SPRING 335
A YOUNG MAN'S YEAR
A YOUNG MAN'S YEAR
CHAPTER I
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, ESQUIRE
It was a dark, dank, drizzly morning in March. A dull mist filled all
the air, and the rain drifted in a thin sheet across the garden of the
Middle Temple. Everything looked a dull drab. Certainly it was a beastly
morning. Moreover--to add to its offences--it was Monday morning. Arthur
Lisle had always hated Monday mornings; through childhood, school, and
university they had been his inveterate enemies--with their narrow
rigorous insistence on a return to work, with the end they put to
freedom, to leisure, to excursions in the body or in the spirit. And
they were worse now, since the work was worse, in that it was not real
work at all; it was only waiting for work, or at best a tedious and
weary preparation for work which did not come and (for all that he could
see) never would come. There was no reason why it ever should. Even
genius might starve unnoticed at the Bar, and he was no genius. Even
interest might fail to help a man, and interest he had none. Standing
with his hands in the pockets, listlessly staring out of the window of
his cell of a room, unable to make up his mind how to employ himself, he
actually cursed his means of subsistence--the hundred and fifty pounds a
year which had led him into the fatal ambition of being called to the
Bar. "But for that it would have been impossible for me to be such an
ass," he reflected gloomily, as he pushed back his thick reddish-brown
hair from his forehead and puckered the thin sensitive lines of his
mouth into a childish pout.
Henry the clerk (of whom Mr. Arthur Lisle owned an undivided fourth
share) came into the room, carrying a bundle of papers tied with red
tape. Turning round on the opening of the door, Arthur suddenly fell
prey to an emotion of extraordinary strength and complexity; amazement,
joy, excitement, fear, all in their highest expression, struggled for
mastery over him. Had he got a Brief?
"Mr. Norton Ward says, will you be kind enough to protect him in Court
III, in case he's on in the Court of Appeal? It's a very simple matter,
he says; it's the Divisional Court, sir, third in the list." Henry put
the papers on the table and went out, quite disregardful of the storm of
emotion which he had aroused. Though keenly interested in the fortunes
of his employers, he did not study their temperaments.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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