The Ordeal of Richard Feverel: A History of a Father and SonMeredith, George
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The Ordeal of Richard Feverel: A History of a Father and Son
Meredith, George
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Fathers and sons -- Fiction
"Sauces," Adrian was heard to articulate distinctly in the rear,
"Sauces are the top tree of this science. A woman who has mastered
sauces sits on the apex of civilization."
Briareus reddened duskily seaward. The West was all a burning rose.
"How can men see such sights as those, and live idle?" Richard
resumed. "I feel ashamed of asking my men to work for me.--Or I feel
so now."
"Not when you're racing the Begum, I think. There's no necessity for
you to turn democrat like Austin. Do you write now?"
"No. What is writing like mine? It doesn't deceive me. I know it's
only the excuse I'm making to myself for remaining idle. I haven't
written a line since--lately."
"Because you are so happy."
"No, not because of that. Of course I'm very happy...." He did not
finish.
Vague, shapeless ambition had replaced love in yonder skies. No
Scientific Humanist was by to study the natural development, and
guide him. This lady would hardly be deemed a very proper guide to
the undirected energies of the youth, yet they had established
relations of that nature. She was five years older than he, and a
woman, which may explain her serene presumption.
The cloud-giants had broken up: a brawny shoulder smouldered over
the sea.
"We'll work together in town, at all events," said Richard. "Why
can't we go about together at night and find out people who want
help?"
Lady Judith smiled, and only corrected his nonsense by saying, "I
think we mustn't be too romantic. You will become a knight-errant, I
suppose. You have the characteristics of one."
"Especially at breakfast," Adrian's unnecessarily emphatic
gastronomical lessons to the young wife here came in.
"You must be our champion," continued Lady Judith: "the rescuer and
succourer of distressed dames and damsels. We want one badly."
"You do," said Richard, earnestly: "from what I hear: from what I
know!" His thoughts flew off with him as knight-errant hailed
shrilly at exceeding critical moments by distressed dames and
damsels. Images of airy towers hung around. His fancy performed
miraculous feats. The towers crumbled. The stars grew larger, seemed
to throb with lustre. His fancy crumbled with the towers of the
air, his heart gave a leap, he turned to Lucy.
"My darling! what have you been doing?" And as if to compensate her
for his little knight-errant infidelity, he pressed very tenderly to
her.
"We have been engaged in a charming conversation on domestic
cookery," interposed Adrian.
"Cookery! such an evening as this?" His face was a handsome likeness
of Hippias at the presentation of bride-cake.
"Dearest! you know it's very useful," Lucy mirthfully pleaded.
"Indeed I quite agree with you, child," said Lady Judith, "and I
think you have the laugh of us. I certainly will learn to cook some
day."
"Woman's mission, in so many words," ejaculated Adrian.
"And pray, what is man's?"
"To taste thereof, and pronounce thereupon."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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