The burden
of conversation fell upon Mr. Vialls, who was quite equal to its
support; he spoke of the evil tendencies of the time as exhibited in
a shameful attempt to establish Sunday evening concerts at a club of
Polterham workmen. His discourse on this subject, systematically
developed, lasted until the ladies withdrew. It allowed him scarcely
any attention to his plate, but Mr. Vialls had the repute of an
ascetic. In his buttonhole was a piece of blue ribbon, symbol of a
ferocious total-abstinence; his face would have afforded sufficient
proof that among the reverend man's failings were few distinctly of
the flesh.
The Mayor did not pretend to asceticism. He ate largely and without
much discrimination. His variously shaped and coloured glasses were
not merely for display. When the door had closed behind the Mayoress
and her two companions, he settled himself with an audible sigh, and
for a few moments wore a look of meditation; then, leaning towards
Glazzard, he inquired gravely:
"What is your opinion of the works of Bawlzac?"
The guest was at a loss for an instant, but he quickly recovered
himself.
"Ah, the French novelist? A man of great power, but--hardly
according to English tastes."
"Should you consider him suitable reading for young ladies?"
"Well, hardly. Some of his books are unobjectionable.
Pages:
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136