What Will He Do with It? — Volume 07Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
What Will He Do with It? — Volume 07
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
"She has a delightful retreat," said the Colonel. "But if she wish
to avoid admiration, she should not make the banks of the river her
favourite haunt. I know some romantic admirers, who, when she re-appears
in the world, may be rival aspirants, and who have much taken to rowing
since Lady Montfort has retired to Twickenham. They catch a glimpse of
her, and return to boast of it. But they report that there is a young
lady seen walking with her an extremely pretty one--who is she? People
ask me--as if I knew everything."
"A companion, I suppose," said George, more and more confused. "But,
pardon me, I must leave you now. Good-bye, uncle. Good day, Mr.
Darrell."
Darrell did not seem to observe George take leave, but walked on, his hat
over his brows, lost in one of his frequent fits of abstracted gloom.
"If my nephew were not married," said the Colonel, "I should regard his
embarrassment with much suspicion--embarrassed at every point, from his
travels about the country to the question of a young lady at Twickenham.
I wonder who that young lady can be--not one of the Viponts, or I should
have heard. Are there any young ladies on the Lyndsay side?--Eh,
Darrell?"
"What do I care?--your head runs on young ladies," answered Darrell, with
peevish vivacity, as he stopped abruptly at Carr Vipont's door.
"And your feet do not seem to run from them," said the Colonel; and, with
an ironical salute, walked away, while the expanding portals engulfed his
friend.
As he sauntered up St. James's Street, nodding towards the thronged
windows of its various clubs, the Colonel suddenly enountered Lionel,
and, taking the young gentleman's arm, said: "If you are not very much
occupied, will you waste half an hour on me?--I am going homewards."
Lionel readily assented, and the Colonel continued "Are you in want
of your cabriolet to-day, or can you lend it to me? I have asked a
Frenchman, who brings me a letter of introduction, to dine at the nearest
restaurant's to which one can ask a Frenchman. I need not say that is
Greenwich: and if I took him in a cabriolet, he would not suspect that he
was taken five miles out of town."
"Alas, my dear Colonel, I have just sold my cabriolet." What! old-
fashioned already!--True, it has been built three months. Perhaps the
horse, too, has become an antique in some other collection--silent--um!
--cabriolet and horse both sold?"
"Both," said Lionel, imefully.
"Nothing surprises me that man can do," said the Colonel; "or I should be
surprised. When, acting on Darrell's general instructions for your
outfit, I bought that horse, I flattered myself that I had chosen well.
But rare are good horses--rarer still a good judge of them; I suppose I
was cheated, and the brute proved a screw."
"The finest cab-horse in London, my dear Colonel, and every one knows how
proud I was of him. But I wanted money, and had nothing else that would
bring the sum I required. Oh, Colonel Morley, do hear me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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