Lord Ormont and His Aminta — Volume 1Meredith, George
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Lord Ormont and His Aminta — Volume 1
Meredith, George
English fiction -- 19th century
But what was there in the purpose? He sifted rapidly for the gist of the
conversation; reviewed the manner of it, the words, the sound they had,
the feelings they touched; then owned that the question could not be
answered. Owning, further, that the recurrence of these idiotic
speculations, feelings, questions, wrote him down as both dull fellow and
impertinent, he was unabled to restore Aminta to the queenly place she
took above the schoolmaster, who was very soon laughing at his fever or
flash of the afternoon. The day had brought a great surprise, nothing
more. Twenty minutes of fencing in the a salle d'armes of an Italian
captain braced him to health, and shifted scenes of other loves, lighter
loves, following the Browny days--not to be called loves; in fact; hardly
beyond inclinations. Nevertheless, inclinations are an infidelity. To
meet a married woman, and be mooning over her because she gave him her
eyes and her handwriting when a girl, was enough to rouse an honest
fellow's laugh at himself, in the contemplation of his intermediate
amorous vagabondage. Had he ever known the veritable passion after
Browny sank from his ken? Let it be confessed, never. His first love
was his only true love, despite one shuddering episode, oddly humiliating
to recollect, though he had not behaved badly. So, then, by right of his
passion, thus did eternal justice rule it: that Browny belonged, to Matey
Weyburn, Aminta to Lord Ormont. Aminta was a lady blooming in the flesh,
Browny was the past's pale phantom; for which reason he could call her
his own, without harm done to any one, and with his usual appetite for
dinner, breakfast, lunch, whatever the meal supplied by the hour.
It would somewhat alarmingly have got to Mr. Weyburn's conscience through
a disturbance of his balance, telling him that he was on a perilous road,
if his relish for food had been blunted. He had his axiom on the
subject, and he was wrong in the general instance, for the appetites of
rogues and ogres are not known to fail. As regarded himself, he was
eminently right; and he could apply it to boys also, to all young people
--the unlaunched, he called them. He counted himself among the launched,
no doubt, and had breasted seas; but the boy was alive, a trencherman
lad, in the coming schoolmaster, and told him profitable facts concerning
his condition; besides throwing a luminous ray on the arcane of our
elusive youthful. If they have no stout zest for eating, put Query
against them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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