English drama -- 20th century; English fiction -- 20th century; Short stories, English
Dick had, indeed, collected about him a band of kindred spirits. There
was Partington, who specialized in history; Gay, who had read all the
classical writings of the golden age and was engaged in the study of
mediæval Latin; Fletton, who was fantastically clever and had brought
the art of being idle to a pitch never previously reached in the
annals of Æsop. These were his chief friends, and a queer-looking
group they made--Dick, small and dark and nervous; Partington, all
roundness, and whose spectacles were two moons in a moonface; Gay,
with the stiff walk of a little old man; and Fletton, who looked like
nobody so much as Mr. Jingle, tall and thin with a twisted, comical
face.
"An ugly skulking crew," Copthorne-Slazenger, conscious of his own
Olympian splendour, would say as he saw them pass.
With these faithful friends Dick should have been--and indeed for the
most part was--very happy. Between them they mustered up a great stock
of knowledge; they could discuss every subject under the sun. They
were a liberal education and an amusement to one another. There were
times, however, when Dick was filled with a vague, but acute,
discontent. He wanted something which his friends could not give him;
but what, but what? The discontent rankled under the surface, like a
suppressed measles. It was Lord Francis Quarles who brought it out and
made the symptoms manifest.
Francis Quarles was a superb creature, with the curly forehead of a
bull and the face and limbs of a Græco-Roman statue. It was a sight
worth seeing when he looked down through half-shut eyelids, in his
usual attitude of sleepy arrogance, on the world about him. He was in
effect what Mr. Copthorne-Slazenger imagined himself to be, and he
shared that gentleman's dislike for Dick and his friends. "Yellow
little atheists," he called them. He always stood up for God and the
Church of England; they were essential adjuncts to the aristocracy.
God, indeed, was almost a member of the Family; lack of belief in Him
amounted to a personal insult to the name of Quarles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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