The Translation of a Savage, CompleteParker, Gilbert
General
The Translation of a Savage, Complete
Parker, Gilbert
England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Indians of North America -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction
Frank visited the child in the morning, and was received with a casual
interest. Richard Joseph Armour was fastidious, was not to be won at the
grand gallop. Besides, he had just had a visit from his uncle, and the
good taste of that gay time was yet in his mouth. He did not resent the
embraces, but he did not respond to them, and he straightened himself
with relief when the assault was over. Some one was paying homage to
him, that was all he knew; but for his own satisfaction and pleasure
he preferred as yet his old comrades, Edward Lambert, Captain Vidall,
General Armour, and, above all, Richard. He only showed real interest at
the last, when he asked, as it were in compromise, if his father would
give him a sword. No one had ever talked to him of his father, and
he had no instinct for him so far as could be seen. The sword was,
therefore, after the manner of a concession. Frank rashly promised it,
and was promptly told by Marion that it couldn’t be; and she was backed
by Captain Vidall, who said it had already been tabooed, and Frank
wasn’t to come in and ask for favours or expect them.
The husband and wife met at breakfast. He was down first. When his wife
entered, he came to her, they touched hands, and she presently took a
seat beside him. More than once he paused suddenly in his eating, when
he thought of his inexplicable case. He was now face to face with a
reversed situation. He had once picked up a pebble from the brown dirt
of a prairie, that he might toss it into the pool of this home life; and
he had tossed it, and from the sweet bath there had come out a precious
stone, which he longed to wear, and knew that he could not--not yet.
He could have coerced a lower being, but for his manhood’s sake--he had
risen to that now, it is curious how the dignity of fatherhood helps to
make a man--he could not coerce here, and if he did, he knew that the
product would be disaster.
He listened to her talk with Marion and Captain Vidall. Her voice
was musical, balanced, her language breathed; it had manner, and an
indescribable cadence of intelligence, joined to a deliberation, which
touched her off with distinction. When she spoke to him--and she
seemed to do that as by studied intention and with tact at certain
intervals--her manner was composed and kind. She had resolved on her
part. She asked him about his journey over, about his plans for the day,
and if he had decided to ride with her in the Park,--he could have
the general’s mount, she was sure, for the general was not going that
day,--and would he mind doing a little errand for her afterwards in
Regent Street, for the child--she feared she herself would not have
time?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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