Lewis Arundel; Or, The Railroad Of LifeSmedley, Frank E. (Frank Edward)
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Lewis Arundel; Or, The Railroad Of Life
Smedley, Frank E. (Frank Edward)
English fiction -- 19th century
“You are right in your conjecture,” replied Leicester, “but it is mainly
owing to your straightforward and sensible advice that I have gained the
prize I strove for. I was within an ace of losing it, though;” and he
then gave a hasty outline of his day’s adventures, with which the reader
has been already made acquainted.
Lewis congratulated him warmly on his good fortune. “You see I was
right when I told you Miss Peyton was not so indifferent to you as you
imagined,” he said, “and that she liked you, not because you were a man
of fashion, the admired of all admirers, but because she had sufficient
penetration to discover that you were something more--that you possessed
higher and better qualities, and were not----”
“Go on, my dear Arundel,” urged Leicester as Lewis paused, “go on. I
like plain speaking when it comes from a friendly mouth.”
“The mere butterfly you strove to appear, I was going to say,” resumed
Lewis; “but you will think me strangely impertinent.”
“Not at all,” returned Leicester, “it’s the truth; I can see it plainly
now. I’ve taken as much trouble to make myself appear a fool as other
men do to gain a reputation for wisdom. Well, it’s never too late to
mend. I shall turn over a new leaf from this time forth, give up dress,
restrict myself to one cigar a day, moderate my affection for pale ale,
invest capital in worsted gloves and a cotton umbrella, and become a
regular business character.” He paused, and drawing a chair to the fire,
seated himself, and stretching out his legs, subjected his boots, which
bore unmistakable traces of his pedestrian episode, to the influence of
the blazing wood. Having thus made himself comfortable, he fell into a
fit of musing which lasted till, after gazing vacantly at his
extended legs for some moments, his features suddenly assumed an eager
expression, and he exclaimed, “Confound those blockheads, Schneider &
Shears: I suppose if I’ve told them once I’ve told them fifty times to
give more room in the leg for riding-trousers. A horse’s back is a wide
thing, and of course when you stretch your legs across it you require
the trousers to fit sufficiently loosely to accommodate themselves to
the position; they need not set like a couple of hop sacks either; the
thing’s simple enough. I know if I’d a pair of scissors I could cut them
out myself.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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