"
"Oh? To whom?"
"An English girl who has been a governess at Stockholm. I knew it
was impending."
"Has he made a fool of himself?" asked William, dispassionately.
"I think not; she seems to be well educated, and good-looking--
according to his report."
"Why didn't you mention it before?"
"Oh, his wish. We talked it all over when he was here. He has an
idea that a man about to be married always cuts a ridiculous
figure."
The elder man looked puzzled.
"No mysteries--eh?"
"None whatever, I believe. A decent girl without fortune, that's
all. I suppose we shall see them before long."
The subject was shortly dismissed, and Eustace fell to reporting the
remarkable conversation in which he had taken part at the Mayor's
table. His brother was moved to no little mirth, but did not indulge
in such savage contemptuousness as distinguished the narrator.
William Glazzard viewed the world from a standpoint of philosophic
calm; he expected so little of men in general, that disappointment
or vexation could rarely befall him.
"These people," he observed, "think themselves pillars of society,
and the best of the joke is, that they really _are_ what they
imagine. Without tolerably honest fools, we should fare badly at the
hands of those who hate neither wits nor honesty. Let us encourage
them, by all means. I see no dawn as yet of the millennium of
brains.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143