England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
began to feel that his services lacked recognition.
The other, of whom there has been casual mention, was Joseph Bunce. Of
spare frame and with hollow cheeks which suggested insufficiency of
diet, he yet had far more of manliness in his appearance than the
portly Bower. You divined in him independence enough, and of worthier
origin than that which secretly inflated his neighbour. His features
were at first sight by no means pleasing; their coarseness was
undeniable, but familiarity revealed a sensitive significance in the
irregular nose, the prominent lips, the small chin and long throat.
Egremont had now and then caught a light in his eyes which was warranty
for more than his rough tongue could shape into words. He often
appeared to have a difficulty in following the lecture; would shrug
nervously, and knit his brows and mutter. Whenever he noticed that,
Egremont would pause a little and repeat in simpler form what he had
been saying, with the satisfactory result that Bunce showed a clearer
face and jotted something on his dirty note-book with his stumpy pencil.
Gilbert Grail we know. It was impossible not to remark him as the one
who followed with most consecutive understanding, even if his
countenance had not declared him of higher grade than any of those
among whom he sat. It had needed only the first ten minutes of the
first lecture to put him at his ease with regard to Egremont's claims
to stand forward as a teacher; the preliminary meeting, indeed, had
removed the suspicions suggested by Ackroyd. To him these evenings were
pure enjoyment. He delighted in this subject, and had an inexpressible
pleasure in listening continuously to the speech of a cultivated man.
Had the note-books of the class been examined (Egremont had strongly
advised their use), Gilbert's jottings would probably have alone been
found of substantial value, seeing that he alone possessed the mental
habit necessary for the practice. Bunce's would doubtless have come
next, though at a long distance; a Carlylean editor might have
disengaged from them many a rudely forcible scrap of comment. Bower's
pages would have smelt of the day-book. It was to Grail that Egremont
mentally directed the best things he had to say; not seldom he was
repaid by the quick gleam of sympathy on that grave interesting face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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