Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume I) — John Shaqi
Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume I)Black, William
General
Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume I)
Black, William
Families -- Fiction; Grandfathers -- Fiction; Older people -- Fiction; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"My dear fellow," the young nobleman said, looking at his friend
curiously, "what is the matter with you? Are you in a dream? Are you
asleep? Haven’t I told you that —— is coming down by a late train
to-night; and isn’t all the world envying you that the great man should
make such a protégé and favourite of you? Indeed you must come down;
you can’t afford to lose such a chance. We will sit up for him; and
you’ll talk to him during supper; and you’ll listen to him for hours
after if he is in the humour for monologues. Then to-morrow morning
you’ll take him away bird’s-nesting—he is as eager for any new diversion
as a school-boy; and you’ll have him all to yourself; and one of these
days, before you know where you are, he’ll hand you a Junior Lordship.
Or is it the Under-Secretaryship at the Home Office you’re waiting for?
You know, we’re all anxious to see how the new experiment will come off.
The young man unspoiled by Oxford or Cambridge—untainted by landlord
sentiment—trained for public life on first principles: one wants to see
how all this will work in practice. And we never dictate—oh, no, we
never dictate to the constituencies; but when the public notice from
time to time in the newspapers that Mr. Vincent Harris was included in
——’s dinner-party on the previous evening, then they think; and perhaps
they wonder when that lucky young gentleman is going to take his seat in
the House of Commons. So really, my dear Vin, you can’t afford to throw
away this chance of having —— all to yourself. I suppose he quite
understands that you are not infected with any of your father’s
Socialistic theories? Of course it’s all very well for an enormously
rich man like your father to play with Communism—it must be an exciting
sort of amusement—like stroking a tiger’s tail, and wondering what will
happen in consequence; but you must keep clear of that kind of thing, my
boy. Now, come along——"
"Oh, thank you, Musselburgh," the young man said, in the same
embarrassed fashion, "but if you’ll excuse me—I’d rather stay in town
to-night."
"Oh, very well," the other said, good-naturedly, "I shall be up in a day
or two again. By the way, the Four-in-Hand Club turns out on Saturday.
Shall I give you a lift—and we’ll go down to Hurlingham for the polo?
Mrs. Ellison is coming."
"Oh, thanks—awfully good of you—I shall be delighted," the young man
murmured; and a few seconds thereafter the two friends had separated,
Lord Musselburgh driving off in a hansom to Victoria-station.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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