The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Volume 2Meredith, George
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The Ordeal of Richard Feverel — Volume 2
Meredith, George
Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Fathers and sons -- Fiction
"Well, then, my squire," she touched his cheek and ran her fingers
through his hair, "learn as quick as you can not to be all hither and yon
with a hundred different attractions, as I was before I met a wise man to
guide me."
"Is my father very wise?" Richard asked.
"I think so," the lady emphasized her individual judgment.
"Do you--" Richard broke forth, and was stopped by a beating of his
heart.
"Do I--what?" she calmly queried.
"I was going to say, do you--I mean, I love him so much."
Lady Blandish smiled and slightly coloured.
They frequently approached this theme, and always retreated from it;
always with the same beating of heart to Richard, accompanied by the
sense of a growing mystery, which, however, did not as yet generally
disturb him.
Life was made very pleasant to him at Raynham, as it was part of Sir
Austin's principle of education that his boy should be thoroughly joyous
and happy; and whenever Adrian sent in a satisfactory report of his
pupil's advancement, which he did pretty liberally, diversions were
planned, just as prizes are given to diligent school-boys, and Richard
was supposed to have all his desires gratified while he attended to his
studies. The System flourished. Tall, strong, bloomingly healthy, he
took the lead of his companions on land and water, and had more than one
bondsman in his service besides Ripton Thompson--the boy without a
Destiny! Perhaps the boy with a Destiny was growing up a trifle too
conscious of it. His generosity to his occasional companions was
princely, but was exercised something too much in the manner of a prince;
and, notwithstanding his contempt for baseness, he would overlook that
more easily than an offence to his pride, which demanded an utter
servility when it had once been rendered susceptible. If Richard had his
followers he had also his feuds. The Papworths were as subservient as
Ripton, but young Ralph Morton, the nephew of Mr. Morton, and a match for
Richard in numerous promising qualities, comprising the noble science of
fisticuffs, this youth spoke his mind too openly,
and moreover would not be snubbed. There was no middle course for
Richard's comrades between high friendship or absolute slavery. He was
deficient in those cosmopolite habits and feelings which enable boys and
men to hold together without caring much for each other; and, like every
insulated mortal, he attributed the deficiency, of which he was quite
aware, to the fact of his possessing a superior nature. Young Ralph was
a lively talker: therefore, argued Richard's vanity, he had no intellect.
He was affable: therefore he was frivolous. The women liked him:
therefore he was a butterfly. In fine, young Ralph was popular, and our
superb prince, denied the privilege of despising, ended by detesting him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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