London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
In Bertram Jay the elements were surprisingly mingled; you would have
gone astray, in reading him, if you had counted on finding the
complements of some of his qualities. He would not however have struck
you in the least as incomplete, for in every case in which you didn’t
find the complement you would have found the contradiction. He was in
the Royal Engineers, and was tall, lean and high-shouldered. He looked
every inch a soldier, yet there were people who considered that he had
missed his vocation in not becoming a parson. He took a public interest
in the spiritual life of the army. Other persons still, on closer
observation, would have felt that his most appropriate field was neither
the army nor the church, but simply the world—the social, successful,
worldly world. If he had a sword in one hand and a Bible in the other he
had a Court Guide concealed somewhere about his person. His profile was
hard and handsome, his eyes were both cold and kind, his dark straight
hair was imperturbably smooth and prematurely streaked with grey. There
was nothing in existence that he didn’t take seriously. He had a
first-rate power of work and an ambition as minutely organised as a
German plan of invasion. His only real recreation was to go to church,
but he went to parties when he had time. If he was in love with Rose
Tramore this was distracting to him only in the same sense as his
religion, and it was included in that department of his extremely
sub-divided life. His religion indeed was of an encroaching, annexing
sort. Seen from in front he looked diffident and blank, but he was
capable of exposing himself in a way (to speak only of the paths of
peace) wholly inconsistent with shyness. He had a passion for instance
for open-air speaking, but was not thought on the whole to excel in it
unless he could help himself out with a hymn. In conversation he kept
his eyes on you with a kind of colourless candour, as if he had not
understood what you were saying and, in a fashion that made many people
turn red, waited before answering. This was only because he was
considering their remarks in more relations than they had intended. He
had in his face no expression whatever save the one just mentioned, and
was, in his profession, already very distinguished.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account