The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 2, July 1894
General
The yellow book, an illustrated quarterly. Vol. 2, July 1894
English literature -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Great Britain -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
I had almost avoided the general election, but some of its
consequences, on my return, had squarely to be faced. The season, in
London, began to breathe again and to flap its folded wings.
Confidence, under the new ministry, was understood to be reviving, and
one of the symptoms, in the social body, was a recovery of appetite.
People once more fed together, and it happened that, one Saturday
night, at somebody's house, I fed with George Gravener. When the
ladies left the room I moved up to where he sat and offered him my
congratulation. "On my election?" he asked after a moment; whereupon I
feigned, jocosely not to have heard of his election and to be alluding
to something much more important, the rumour of his engagement. I
daresay I coloured however, for his political victory had momentarily
passed out of my mind. What was present to it was that he was to marry
that beautiful girl; and yet his question made me conscious of some
embarrassment--I had not intended to put that before everything. He
himself indeed ought gracefully to have done so, and I remember
thinking the whole man was in this assumption, that in expressing my
sense of what he had won I had fixed my thoughts on his "seat." We
straightened the matter out, and he was so much lighter in hand than I
had lately seen him that his spirits might well have been fed from a
double source. He was so good as to say that he hoped I should soon
make the acquaintance of Miss Anvoy, who, with her aunt, was presently
coming up to town. Lady Coxon, in the country, had been seriously
unwell, and this had delayed their arrival. I told him I had heard the
marriage would be a splendid one; on which, brightened and humanised
by his luck, he laughed and said: "Do you mean for _her_?" When I had
again explained what I meant he went on: "Oh, she's an American, but
you'd scarcely know it; unless, perhaps," he added, "by her being used
to more money than most girls in England, even the daughters of rich
men. That wouldn't in the least do for a fellow like me, you know, if
it wasn't for the great liberality of her father. He really has been
most kind, and everything is quite satisfactory." He added that his
eldest brother had taken a tremendous fancy to her and that during a
recent visit at Coldfield she had nearly won over Lady Maddock. I
gathered from something he dropped later that the free-handed
gentleman beyond the seas had not made a settlement, but had given a
handsome present and was apparently to be looked to, across the water,
for other favours. People are simplified alike by great contentments
and great yearnings, and whether or no it was Gravener's directness
that begot my own, I seem to recall that in some turn taken by our
talk he almost imposed it upon me as an act of decorum to ask if Miss
Anvoy had also by chance expectations from her aunt. My inquiry
elicited that Lady Coxon, who was the oddest of women, would have in
any contingency to act under her late husband's will, which was odder
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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