The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — CompleteMeredith, George
General
The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Complete
Meredith, George
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Fathers and sons -- Fiction
The Autumn primrose
flourished.
We are advised by The Pilgrim’s Scrip that—
“The ways of women, which are Involution, and their practices, which
are Opposition, are generally best hit upon by guess work, and a bold
word;”—it being impossible to track them and hunt them down in the
ordinary style.
So that we may not ourselves become involved and opposed, let us each
of us venture a guess and say a bold word as to how it came that the
lady, who trusted love to be eternal, grovelled to him that shattered
her tender faith, and loved him.
Hitherto it had been simply a sentimental dalliance, and gossips had
maligned the lady. Just when the gossips grew tired of their slander,
and inclined to look upon her charitably, she set about to deserve
every word they had said of her; which may instruct us, if you please,
that gossips have only to persist in lying to be crowned with verity,
or that one has only to endure evil mouths for a period to gain
impunity. She was always at the Abbey now. She was much closeted with
the baronet. It seemed to be understood that she had taken Mrs. Doria’s
place. Benson in his misogynic soul perceived that she was taking Lady
Feverel’s: but any report circulated by Benson was sure to meet
discredit, and drew the gossips upon himself; which made his
meditations tragic. No sooner was one woman defeated than another took
the field! The object of the System was no sooner safe than its great
author was in danger!
“I can’t think what has come to Benson” he said to Adrian.
“He seems to have received a fresh legacy of several pounds of lead,”
returned the wise youth, and imitating Dr. Clifford’s manner. “Change
is what he wants! distraction! send him to Wales for a month, sir, and
let Richard go with him. The two victims of woman may do each other
good.”
“Unfortunately I can’t do without him,” said the baronet.
“Then we must continue to have him on our shoulders all day, and on our
chests all night!” Adrian ejaculated.
“I think while he preserves this aspect we won’t have him at the
dinner-table,” said the baronet.
Adrian thought that would be a relief to their digestions; and added:
“You know, sir, what he says?”
Receiving a negative, Adrian delicately explained to him that Benson’s
excessive ponderosity of demeanour was caused by anxiety for the safety
of his master.
“You must pardon a faithful fool, sir,” he continued, for the baronet
became red, and exclaimed:
“His stupidity is past belief! I have absolutely to bolt my study-door
against him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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