English fiction -- 19th century; Marriage -- Fiction
Urging Virgin Luck not to quit his initiatory table, the captain
reluctantly went at their heels. Shortly before the tables were clad in
mantles for the night, he reported to Livia one of the great cases of
Virgin Luck; described it, from the silver piece to the big heap of
notes, and drew on his envy of the fellow to sketch the indomitable
coolness shown in following or in quitting a run. ‘That fellow it is,
Fleetwood’s tag-rag; holds his head like a street-fiddler; Woodler or
some name. But there’s nothing to be done if we don’t cultivate him. He
must have pocketed a good three thousand and more. They had a quarrel
about calculations of chances, and Fleet ran the V up his forehead at a
piece of impudence. Fellow says some high-flying stuff; Fleet brightens
like a Sunday chimney-sweep. If I believed in Black Arts, upon my word!’
‘Russett is not usually managed with ease,’ the lady said.
Her placid observation was directed on the pair then descending the
steps.
‘Be careful how you address, this gentleman,’ she counselled Abrane.
‘The name is not Woodier, I know. It must be the right name or none.’
Livia’s fairest smile received them. She heard the captain accosting the
child of luck as Mr. Woodier, and she made a rustle in rising to take
Fleetwood’s arm.
‘We haven’t dined, we have to sup,’ said he.
‘You are released at the end of the lamps. You redeem your ring,
Russett, and I will restore it. I have to tell you, Henrietta is here
to-morrow.’
‘She might be in a better place.’
‘The place where she is to be seen is not generally undervalued by men.
It is not her fault that she is absent. The admiral was persuaded to go
and attend those cavalry manoeuvres with the Grand Duke, to whom he had
been civil when in command of the Mediterranean squadron. You know,
the admiral believes he has military--I mean soldierly-genius; and the
delusion may have given him wholesome exercise and helped him to forget
his gout. So far, Henrietta will have been satisfied. She cannot have
found much amusement among dusty troopers or at that court at Carlsruhe.
Our French milliner there has helped in retarding her quite against her
will. She has had to choose a balldress for the raw mountain-girl they
have with them, and get her fitted, and it’s a task! Why take her to the
ball? But the admiral’s infatuated with this girl, and won’t hear of her
exclusion--because, he says, she understands a field of battle; and the
Ducal party have taken to her. Ah, Russett, you should not have flown!
No harm, only Henrietta does require a trifle of management. She writes,
that she is sure of you for the night at the Schloss.’
‘Why, ma’am?’
‘You have given your word. “He never breaks his lightest word,” she
says.’
‘It sounds like the beginning of respect.’
‘The rarest thing men teach women to feel for them!’
‘A respectable love match--eh? Good Lord! You’ll be civil to my friend.
You have struck him to the dust. You have your one poetical admirer in
him.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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