Tales and Novels — Volume 01: Moral TalesEdgeworth, Maria
General
Tales and Novels — Volume 01: Moral Tales
Edgeworth, Maria
Fiction
"You are really a noble little fellow," exclaimed Holloway, "to bear me
no malice for the many ill turns I have done you: this last has
fallen upon myself, as ill-luck would have it: but before we go any
farther--your sweetmeats are safe in the press, in my room; I didn't
mean to steal them; only to plague you, child:--but you have your
revenge now."
"I don't want any revenge, indeed," said Oliver, "for I'm never happy
when I've quarrelled with any body: and even when people quarrel with
me, I don't feel quite sure that I'm in the right, which makes me
uncomfortable; and, besides, I don't want to find out that they are
quite in the wrong; and that makes me uncomfortable the other way.
After all, quarrelling and bearing malice are very disagreeable things,
somehow or other. Don't you, when you have made it up with people, and
shaken hands, Holloway--don't you feel quite light, and ready to jump
again? So shake hands, if you are not above shaking hands with such a
little boy as I am; and I shall never think again about the sweetmeats,
or old _fag_ times."
Holloway could not help feeling touched. "Here's my hand," cried he,
"I'm sorry I've tormented you so often; I'll never plague you any more.
But now--I don't know what upon earth to do. Where's Charles Howard? If
he can't help me, I'm undone. I have got into more scrapes than I can
get out of, I know. I wish I could see Howard."
"I'll run and bring him to you; he's the best person at knowing what
should be done--at least for me, I know--that ever I saw."
Holloway abruptly began, as soon as Howard came up to him: "Howard,"
said he, "you know this plaguy lottery business--but you don't know
half yet: here's Carat come to be paid for his tickets; and here's that
dunning stage-coachman sticks close to me for his five guineas; and not
one farthing have I upon earth."
"Not a farthing! but you don't mean that you have not the money for Mr.
Carat?"
"But I _do_ though."
"Why, you cannot have spent it since yesterday morning?"
"No; but I have lost half and lent half; and the half that I have lent
is gone for ever, I am afraid, as much as that which I lost."
"Whom did you lend the money to? How did you lose it?"
"I lost part to Sir John O'Shannon, last night, at billiards--more fool
I to play, only because I wanted to cut a figure amongst those fine
people at Marryborough. I wonder my father lets me go there; I know
I sha'n't go back there this Easter, unless Lord Rawson makes me an
apology, I can tell him. I've as good a right to be upon my high horse
as he has; for though his father's an earl, my father's a great deal
richer, I know; and has lent him a great deal of money, too, and that's
the only reason he's civil to us; but I can tell him--"
Here Howard brought the angry Holloway from his high horse, by asking
what all this had to do with Mr. Carat, who was waiting to be paid?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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