British -- Ireland -- Fiction; British -- Italy -- Fiction; Ireland -- Fiction
“Come, Nelly,” said Julia, rising, “we'll go into the drawing-room, and
leave George to explain how he tamed the Arab and captivated the Arab's
mistress, for your brother might like to learn the secret. You 'll join
us, gentlemen, when you wish for coffee.”
“That was scarcely fair, Julia dear,” said Nelly, when they were alone.
“Your banter is sometimes too sharp for him.”
“I can't help it, dearest--it is a part of my nature. When I was a
child, they could not take me to a wild-beast show, for I would insist
on poking straws at the tiger--not that poor dear George has much
'tiger' in him. But do you know, Nelly,” said she, in a graver tone,
“that when people are very poor, when their daily lives are beset by
the small accidents of narrow fortune, there is a great philosophy in
a little banter? You brush away many an annoyance by seeming to feel
it matter for drollery, which, if taken seriously, might have made you
fretful and peevish.”
“I never suspected there was method in your madness, Ju,” said Nelly,
smiling.
“Nor was there, dearest; the explanation was almost an afterthought.
But come now and tell me about yourselves.”
“There is really little to tell. Augustus never speaks to me now of
business matters. I think I can see that he is not fully satisfied with
himself; but, rather than show weakness or hesitation, he is determined
to go on as he began.”
“And you are really going to this dreary place?”
“He says so.”
“Would any good come, I wonder, of bringing your brother and Pracontal
together? They are both men of high and generous feelings. Each seems
to think that there ought to be some other settlement than a recourse to
lawyers. Do you think he would refuse to meet Pracontal?”
“That is a mere chance. There are days he would not listen to such
a proposal, and there are times he would accept it heartily; but the
suggestion must not come from me. With all his love for me, he rather
thinks that I secretly disapprove of what he has done, and would reverse
it if I knew how.”
“What if I were to hint at it? He already said he wished to see him.
This might be mere curiosity, however. What if I were to say, 'Why not
meet Pracontal? Why not see what manner of man he is? There is nothing
more true than the saying that half the dislikes people conceive
against each other would give way if they would condescend to become
acquainted.'”
“As I have just said, it is a mere chance whether he would consent, and
then--”
“Oh, I know! It would be also a chance what might come of it.”
Just as she said this, the young men entered the room, with smiling
faces, and apparently in high good-humor.
“Do you know the plan we 've just struck out?” cried Bramleigh. “George
is to come and live at Cattaro. I 'm to make him consular chaplain.”
“But is there such an appointment?” asked Julia, eagerly.
“Heaven knows; but if there is not, there ought to be.”
“And the salary, Mr. Bramleigh. Who pays it? What is it?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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