'
'I wish you could congratulate me upon some more tangible
quality,' said the younger man, sadly no less than modestly.
'Nonsense! that will come with time. You are young: all your life
is before you. Now look--see how far back in the mists of
antiquity my own family of Swancourt have a root. Here, you see,'
he continued, turning to the page, 'is Geoffrey, the one among my
ancestors who lost a barony because he would cut his joke. Ah,
it's the sort of us! But the story is too long to tell now. Ay,
I'm a poor man--a poor gentleman, in fact: those I would be
friends with, won't be friends with me; those who are willing to
be friends with me, I am above being friends with. Beyond dining
with a neighbouring incumbent or two. and an occasional chat--
sometimes dinner--with Lord Luxellian, a connection of mine, I am
in absolute solitude--absolute.'
'You have your studies, your books, and your--daughter.'
'Oh yes, yes; and I don't complain of poverty. Canto coram
latrone. Well, Mr. Smith, don't let me detain you any longer in a
sick room. Ha! that reminds me of a story I once heard in my
younger days.' Here the vicar began a series of small private
laughs, and Stephen looked inquiry. 'Oh, no, no! it is too bad--
too bad to tell!' continued Mr. Swancourt in undertones of grim
mirth. 'Well, go downstairs; my daughter must do the best she can
with you this evening. Ask her to sing to you--she plays and
sings very nicely.
Pages:
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39