Phantom Fortune, a NovelBraddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
General
Phantom Fortune, a Novel
Braddon, M. E. (Mary Elizabeth)
English fiction -- 19th century
She was not prepared to think very kindly of young men who had been
successful in their college career, since poor Maulevrier had made such
a dismal failure of his, had been gated and sent down, and ploughed, and
had everything ignominious done to him that could be done, which
ignominy had involved an expenditure of money that Lady Maulevrier
bemoaned and lamented until this day. Because her brother had not been
virtuous, Mary grudged virtuous young men their triumphs and their
honours. Great, raw-boned fellows, who have taken their degrees at
Scotch Universities, come to Oxford and Cambridge and sweep the board,
Maulevrier had told her, when his own failures demanded explanation.
Perhaps this Mr. Hammond had graduated north of the Tweed, and had come
southward to rob the native. Mary was not any more inclined to be civil
to him because he was a linguist. He had a pleasant manner, frank and
easy, a good voice, a cheery laugh. But she had not yet made up her mind
that he was a gentleman.
'If some benevolent old person were to take a fancy to Charles Ford, the
wrestler, and send him to a Scotch University, I daresay he would turn
out just as fine a fellow,' she thought, Ford being somewhat of a
favourite as a local hero.
The two young men went off to the billiard-room after they had dined. It
was half-past ten by this time, and, of course, Mary did not go with
them. She bade her brother good-night at the dining-room door.
'Good-night, Molly; be sure you are up early to show me the dogs,' said
Maulevrier, after an affectionate kiss.
'Good-night, Lady Mary,' said Mr. Hammond, holding out his hand, albeit
she had no idea of shaking hands with him.
She allowed her hand to rest for an instant in that strong, friendly
grasp. She had not risen to giving a couple of fingers to a person whom
she considered her inferior; but she was inclined to snub Mr. Hammond as
rather a presuming young man.
'Well, Jack, what do you think of my beauty sister?' asked his lordship,
as he chose his cue from the well-filled rack.
The lamps were lighted, the table uncovered and ready, Carambole in his
place, albeit it was months since any player had entered the room.
Everything which concerned Maulevrier's comfort or pleasure was done as
if by magic at Fellside; and Mary was the household fairy whose
influence secured this happy state of things.
'What can any man think except that she is as lovely as the finest of
Reynold's portraits, as that Lady Diana Beauclerk of Colonel Aldridge's,
or the Kitty Fisher, or any example you please to name of womanly
loveliness?'
'Glad to hear it,' answered Maulevrier, chalking his cue; 'can't say I
admire her myself--not my style, don't you know. Too much of my lady
Di--too little of poor Kitty. But still, of course, it always pleases a
fellow to know that his people are admired; and I know that my
grandmother has views, grand views,' smiling down at his cue. 'Shall I
break?' and he began with the usual miss in baulk.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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