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
“Now, if you please, I’ll trouble you for my umbrella; I did not like
to interrupt your story by asking for it sooner, but now, if you have no
objection, I shall be glad of it.”
“Certainly,” replied De Grandeville, only too glad (his attention being
once more attracted to it) to get rid of his incubus.
As Frere turned aside to hide a laugh, Bracy inquired, “By the way, De
Grandeville, do you dine at Lady Lombard’s next Tuesday?”
“_I_ do,” replied Frere; “and I suppose it’s to be one of her Lord
Mayor’s feasts, as I hear she’s beating up recruits in all quarters.”
“Ar--really--I’ve received an invitation--but I--ar-- ’pon my word,
I don’t know whether one’s justified in going to such places; one must
draw the line--ar--somewhere.”
“It will be a first-rate feed,” resumed Bracy. “Lady Lombard’s _chef_ is
a capital hand, and her wine is by no means to be despised.”
“Yes, but the woman herself,” rejoined De Grandeville in a tone of the
deepest disgust, “just retrace her degrading career--ar--not an ancestor
to begin the world with.”
“Well, I should have supposed she possessed her fair share in Adam and
Noah, too,” remarked Frere drily.
“Plebeian in origin,” continued De Grandeville, not heeding the
interruption, “she sinks herself still lower by espousing first a
pickle-merchant, secondly a pawnbroker; the first--ar--repulsive, the
second sordid.”
“She did not play her cards altogether badly, though,” observed
Bracy. “Old Girkin died worth a plum, and Sir Pinchbeck Lombard was a
millionaire, or thereabouts.”
“Money, sir,” returned De Grandeville sententiously, “is by no means to
be despised, and those who affect indifference on the subject usually
do so to screen a grasping and avaricious temperament. But money becomes
really respectable only when it enables those who are connected with the
old historical families of England, those in whose veins runs the ‘blue’
blood of aristocracy, to assert their rightful position as lords of the
soil. Among the landed gentry of England are to be found------”
“Some thoroughly jolly fellows,” interposed Bracy, “especially to show
you the way across country, or help to kick up a shindy at the
Coal Hole. But we must part company here; Frere’s booked for the
Palaeontological, and I am going to attend a Committee at the House
You’ll be at Lady Lombard’s?”
“I shall give the matter full consideration,” returned De Grande-ville.
“It is--ar--by no means a step to decide on hastily. In these levelling
days men of--ar--position are forced to be particular as to the places
to which they afford the--ar--sanction of their presence. I wish you a
very good morning;” so saying, he raised his hat slightly to Frere, drew
himself up with his broad chest well thrown forward, and marched off
majestically like a concentrated squadron of heavy dragoons.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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