It was years since
this trifle had recurred to his mind; it came he knew not how, and
he clutched at it like the drowning man at a straw. Before he really
understood what he was about, he had begun to narrate the anecdote,
and suddenly, to his astonishment, he was rewarded with universal
peals of laughter. The noise dispelled his anguish of nervousness;
he drew a deep breath, grasped the table before him, and was able to
speak as freely as if he had been on his own hearth-rug in Clement's
Inn.
Make a popular audience laugh, and you have a hold upon its
attention. Able now to distinguish the faces that were gazing at
him, Denzil perceived that he had begun with a lucky stroke; the
people were in expectation of more merriment, and sat beaming with
good-humour. He saw the Mayor spread himself and stroke his beard,
and the Mayoress simper as she caught a friend's eye. Now he might
venture to change his tone and become serious.
Decidedly, his views were moderate. From the beginning he allowed it
to be understood that, whatever might be the effect of long hair, he
for one considered it becoming, and was by no means in favour of
reducing it to the male type. The young lady of Stockholm might or
might not have been indebted for her wider mental scope to the
practice of curtailing her locks, yet he had known many Swedish
ladies (and ladies of England, too) who, in spite of lovely hair,
managed to preserve an exquisite sense of the distinctions of
womanhood, and this (advanced opinion notwithstanding) he maintained
was the principal thing.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101