The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — Volume 2Lever, Charles
General
The Confessions of Harry Lorrequer — Volume 2
Lever, Charles
Fiction
"Ah, my dear Hal," said he, in the same melting tone as before--"How your
imagination does run upon rows, and broils, and duelling rencontres,"
(he, the speaker, be it known to the reader, was the fire-eater of the
regiment,) "as if life had nothing better to offer than the excitement of
a challenge, or the mock heroism of a meeting."
As he made a dead pause here, after which he showed no disposition to
continue, I merely added--
"Well, at this rate of proceeding we shall get at the matter in hand, on
our way out to Corfu, for I hear we are the next regiment for the
Mediterranean."
The observation seemed to have some effect in rousing him from his
lethargy, and he added--
"If you only knew the nature of the attachment, and how completely all my
future hopes are concerned upon the issue--"
"Ho!" said I, "so it's a money affair, is it? and is it old Watson has
issued the writ? I'll bet a hundred."
"Well, upon my soul, Lorrequer," said he, jumping from his chair, and
speaking with more energy than he had before evinced, "you are, without
exception, the most worldly-minded, cold-blooded fellow I ever met. What
have I said that could have led you to suppose I had either a duel or a
law-suit upon my hands this morning? Learn, once and for all, man, that
I am in love--desperately and over head and ears in love."
"Et puis," said I coolly.
"And intend to marry immediately."
"Oh, very well," said I; "the fighting and debt will come later, that's
all. But to return--now for the lady."
"Come, you must make a guess."
"Why, then, I really must confess my utter inability; for your attentions
have been so generally and impartially distributed since our arrival
here, that it may be any fair one, from your venerable partner at whist
last evening, to Mrs. Henderson, the pastry-cook inclusive, for whose
macaroni and cherry-brandy your feelings have been as warm as they are
constant."
"Come, no more quizzing, Hal. You surely must have remarked that lovely
girl I waltzed with at Power's ball on Tuesday last."
"Lovely girl! Why, in all seriousness, you don't mean the small woman
with the tow wig?"
"No, I do not mean any such thing--but a beautiful creature, with the
brightest locks in Christendom--the very light-brown waving ringlets,
Dominicheno loved to paint, and a foot--did you see her foot?"
"No; that was rather difficult, for she kept continually bobbing up and
down, like a boy's cork-float in a fish-pond."
"Stop there. I shall not permit this any longer--I came not here to
listen to--"
"But, Curzon, my boy, you're not angry?"
"Yes, sir, I am angry."
"Why, surely, you have not been serious all this time?"
"And why not, pray?"
"Oh! I don't exactly know--that is, faith I scarcely thought you were in
earnest, for if I did, of course I should honestly have confessed to you
that the lady in question struck me as one of the handsomest persons I
ever met."
"You think so really, Hal?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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