Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Yet no sooner had I ventured to confirm the wisdom of my friend with my
own opinion, than my dear Mrs. Cynthia began to take my interference as
a personal matter aimed at her rather than at the argument. Thus in a
truly feminine fashion she got upon her dignity and invested her
championship of Mr. Richardson, and more especially her animadversion
of Mr. Fielding, with several palpable references to my recent
behaviour in his company. At least the unease of my conscience put
this construction upon her replies, although when I reflected upon the
matter afterwards I could find no grounds except those of my own guilty
knowledge for supposing that she was at all acquainted with our meeting.
It was a real relief none the less when our heated discourse on
morality was at last interrupted by the arrival of the first dish, a
highly delectable loin of pork flanked with sage and onions. We sat
down in much comfort and did ample justice to the fare. Our friend's
manners at the table had all the elegance of good-breeding, whilst his
conversation under the benign influences of excellent dishes and good
wine was as entertaining and various as any one need listen to. He was
at a loss on no subject whatever; and there was such an easy air of
gallantry about him, too, as commended him extremely to the susceptible
Cynthia, however they might differ in their opinions on the subject of
morality. Indeed his mien was so winning and so perfectly acceptable
withal to her ladyship, that I could have wished he had less of those
graces to recommend him. For I'll swear that her eyes shone to his
speeches, and there was a fine colour in her cheeks, however
indignantly she may be moved to deny it. There was a sly humour in the
fellow too, which as the meal wore on and the excellence of the fare
warmed his heart, he manifested in various ways. To start with, he
made more than one allusion to our supposed misfortune. What kind of a
person was the highwayman, he asked in a tone equally pregnant with
mischief and concern.
"Oh, pretty tallish," says I, with admirable vagueness and promptitude.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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