The Ordeal of Richard Feverel: A History of a Father and SonMeredith, George
General
The Ordeal of Richard Feverel: A History of a Father and Son
Meredith, George
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction
"Born with effort!" ejaculated Hippias. "Must give her pause after
that! and I'll take the opportunity to stretch my length on the
sofa. Heigho! that's true what Austin says: 'The general prayer
should be for a full stomach, and the individual for one that works
well; for on that basis only are we a match for temporal matters,
and able to contemplate eternal.' Sententious, but true. I gave him
the idea, though! Take care of your stomachs, boys! and if ever you
hear of a monument proposed to a scientific cook or gastronomic
doctor, send in your subscriptions. Or say to him while he lives, Go
forth, and be a Knight. Ha! They have a good cook at this house. He
suits me better than ours at Raynham. I almost wish I had brought my
manuscript to town, I feel so much better. Aha! I didn't expect to
digest at all without my regular incentive. I think I shall give it
up.--What do you say to the theatre to-night, boys!"
Richard shouted, "Bravo, uncle!"
"Let Mr. Thompson finish first," said Algernon. "I want to hear the
conclusion of the story. The old girl has a wig and a daughter. I'll
swear somebody runs away with one of the two! Fill your glass, Mr.
Thompson, and forward!"
"So somebody does," Ripton received his impetus. "And they're found
in town together," he made a fresh jerk. "She--a--that is, the old
lady--found them in company."
"She finds him with her wig on in company!" said Algernon. "Capital!
Here's matter for the lawyers!"
"And you advise her not to proceed, under such circumstances of
aggravation?" Hippias observed, humorously twinkling with his
stomachic contentment.
"It's the daughter," Ripton sighed, and surrendering to pressure,
hurried on recklessly, "A runaway match--beautiful girl!--the only
son of a baronet--married by special licence. A--the point is," he
now brightened and spoke from his own element, "the point is whether
the marriage can be annulled, as she's of the Catholic persuasion
and he's a Protestant, and they're both married under age. That's
the point."
Having come to the point he breathed extreme relief, and saw things
more distinctly; not a little amazed at his leader's horrified face.
The two elders were making various absurd inquiries, when Richard
sent his chair to the floor, crying, "What a muddle you're in, Rip!
You're mixing half-a-dozen stories together. The old lady I told you
about was old Dame Bakewell, and the dispute was concerning a
neighbour of hers who encroached on her garden, and I said I'd pay
the money to see her righted!"
"Ah," said Ripton, humbly, "I was thinking of the other. Her garden!
Cabbages don't interest me"----
"Here, come along," Richard beckoned to him savagely. "I'll be back
in five minutes, uncle," he nodded coolly to either.
The young men left the room. In the hall-passage they met Berry,
dressed to return to Raynham. Richard dropped a helper to the
intelligence into his hand, and warned him not to gossip much of
London. Berry bowed perfect discreetness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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