The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 2 (of 3)Trollope, Frances Milton
General
The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 2 (of 3)
Trollope, Frances Milton
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Social classes -- England -- Fiction; Widows -- Fiction
"You are an odious, carping, old, fusty, musty bachelor, and I hate you
with all my heart and soul!" exclaimed the young man. "Upon my honour,
Hubert, I shudder to think that some ten or a dozen years hence I may be
as hard, cold, and insensible as you are now.... Tell me honestly, can
you at all recollect what your feelings were at two-and-twenty on seeing
such a being as that sable angel from whom you have just dragged me?"
"Perhaps not exactly; and besides, black angels were never the objects
of my idolatry. But don't stamp your foot at me, and I will answer you
seriously. I do not think that from the blissful time when I was
sixteen, up to my present solemn five-and-thirty, I could ever have been
tempted to look a second time at any miss under the chaperonship of
such a dame as that feather and furbelow lady."
"Then why, in the name of common sense, did you gaze so earnestly at the
furbelow lady herself?"
"To answer that truly, Frederick, would involve the confession of a
peculiar family weakness."
"A family weakness?... Pray, be confidential; I will promise to be
discreet; and, indeed, as my brother has just made, as the newspapers
say, a 'lovely bride' of your sister, I have some right to a
participation in the family secrets. Come, disclose!... What family
reason have you for choosing to gaze upon a great vulgar woman, verging
towards forty, and refusing to look at a young creature, as beautiful as
a houri, who happens to be in her company?"
"I suspect it is because I am near of kin to my mother's sister.... Did
you never hear of the peculiarity that attaches to my respected aunt,
Lady Elizabeth Norris? She scruples not to avow that she prefers the
society of people who amuse her by their absurdities to every other."
"Oh yes!... I have heard all that from Edward, who has, I can tell you,
been occasionally somewhat horrified at what the queer old lady calls
her _soirées antíthèstiques_. But you don't mean to tell me, Hubert,
that you ever take the fancy of surrounding yourself with all the
greatest quizzes you can find in compliment to your old aunt?"
"Why, no.... I do not go so far as that yet, and perhaps I sometimes
wish that she did not either, for occasionally she carries the whim
rather too far; yet I believe truly that I am more likely to gaze with
attention at a particularly ridiculous-looking woman than at any young
nymph under her protection ... or possessing the awful privilege of
calling her AUNT!"
"A young nymph!... what a hateful phrase! Elegant, delicate
creature!... I swear to you, Colonel Hubert, that you have lowered
yourself very materially in my estimation by your want of tact in not
immediately perceiving that, although a nepotine connexion unhappily
exists between them, by marriage probably, or by the half blood, there
must still be something very peculiar in the circumstances which have
brought so incongruous a pair together."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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