British -- Ireland -- Fiction; British -- Italy -- Fiction; Ireland -- Fiction
Lord Culduff s patience could stand no more, and he arose with a slight
bow and moved haughtily away. Cutbill, however, was quickly at his
side. “You must hear the rest of this; it was a matter of close on ten
thousand pounds to me, and this is the way it came out--”
“I felicitate you heartily, sir, on your success, but beg I may be
spared the story of it.”
“You've heard worse. Egad, I'd not say you haven't told worse. It's not
every fellow, I promise you, has his wits about him at a moment when
people are shouting for help, and an express train standing on its head
in a cutting, and a tender hanging over a viaduct.”
“Sir, there are worse inflictions than even this.”
“Eh, what?” said Cutbill, crossing his arms on his chest, and looking
fully in the other's face; but Lord Culduff moved quietly on, and,
approaching a table where Ellen was seated, said, “I'm coming to beg for
a cup of tea;” not a trace of excitement or irritation to be detected in
his voice or manner. He loitered for a few moments at the table,
talking lightly and pleasantly on indifferent subjects, and then moved
carelessly away till he found himself near the door, when he made a
precipitate escape and hurried up to his room.
It was his invariable custom to look at himself carefully in the glass
whenever he came home at night. As a general might have examined the
list of killed and wounded after an action, computing with himself the
cost of victory or defeat, so did this veteran warrior of a world's
campaign go carefully over all the signs of wear and tear, the hard
lines of pain or checkered coloring of agitation, which his last
engagement might have inflicted.
As he sat down before his mirror now, he was actually shocked to see
what ravages a single evening had produced. The circles around his eyes
were deeply indented, the corners of his mouth drawn down so fixedly and
firmly that all attempts to conjure up a smile were failures, while a
purple tint beneath his rouge totally destroyed that delicate coloring
which was wont to impart the youthful look to his features.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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