Idonia: A Romance of Old LondonWallis, Arthur Frederick
History
Idonia: A Romance of Old London
Wallis, Arthur Frederick
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
stayed for me at breakfast.
I was soon enough dressed after this and, settling my starched ruff, of
which the pleats somewhat galled me, descended to the room where they
dined; and there found the whole family of the Malts (that with the
infant made up nine) set at the board and very ready for their delayed
meal. A long grace was said by the youngest maid, whose eyes were
fierce upon the eggs the while, and after that we fell to. Madam Malt
spoke kindly to me once or twice of my business, of which I had already
given her some slight and grudged particulars, but for the most part
she conversed in sidelong frowns with her children, of whose conduct it
was evident she wished I should think well. But in truth I cared
nothing for their conduct nor much for their persons (for all they were
personable enough) being in a fever to be gone upon my errand to the
goldsmith's and to commence work in earnest.
Breakfast done then, I lost little time upon formalities and broke in
upon Madam Malt's excuse of her third (or fourth) daughter's mishap
over the small beer, with excuses of my own for leaving her; and so
taking up my hat left her staring. So eager indeed was I, that I ran
out of the door into the arms of a gentleman that stood by and nearly
sent him on his back in the snow. When he had recovered himself, with
my aid, and stood fronting me, I knew him directly for the man whom I
had seen in the barber's chair, and faltering upon my apology let fall
some foolish words by which I might be thought to claim his
acquaintance. He frowned suddenly at that and gazing upon me earnestly
said--
"It were easy to perceive you are of the country, young sir, and not
used to our town customs."
"How so?" I asked very hotly, for his disdain went the deeper into me
that it was founded upon reason.
"By your pretending to an intimacy with me," he replied, and drew
himself up very haughtily as he said it, "who know not your name even,
although doubtless you know mine, as all do, seeing the place I keep,
and the especial favour of my lord to me; yet I say that is no ground
for your familiarly accosting me in the public way."
"Why, as to that," I cried out scorningly, "I know nothing of you save
that I saw you but now in the barber's chair, swathed up in a towel and
your face all lathered."
He turned very pale at this out of mere discomfiture, and I expected
would have run upon me with his sword, so that I clapped my fist upon
my own and stepping closely to his side said--
"Sir, I am, as you imagine, but lately come out of the country and
therefore know not your customs here in London. But if there be places
reserved for the settlement of such brabbles as this, let us go thither
with all my heart." And then, after a breath or two taken: "For all
that," I added, "I had it in my mind to say I meant no insult, and if I
offended you, I am sorry."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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