For instance, it had been the plan of the house to have
a cold dinner on the Sunday--Mr. Bradshaw had piqued himself on
this strictness--and yet he had an instinctive feeling that Mr.
Donne was not quite the man to partake of cold meat for
conscience sake with cheerful indifference to his fare.
Mr. Donne had, in fact, taken the Bradshaw household a little by
surprise. Before he came, Mr. Bradshaw had pleased himself with
thinking that more unlikely things had happened than the espousal
of his daughter with the member of a small borough. But this
pretty airy bubble burst as soon as he saw Mr. Donne; and its
very existence was forgotten in less than half-an-hour, when he
felt the quiet but incontestable difference of rank and standard
that there was, in every respect, between his guest and his own
family. It was not through any circumstance so palpable, and
possibly accidental, as the bringing down a servant, whom Mr.
Donne seemed to consider as much a matter of course as a
carpet-bag (though the smart gentleman's arrival "fluttered the
Volscians in Corioli" considerably more than his gentle-spoken
master's). It was nothing like this; it was something
indescribable--a quiet being at ease, and expecting every one
else to be so--an attention to women, which was so habitual as to
be unconsciously exercised to those subordinate persons in Mr.
Bradshaw's family--a happy choice of simple and expressive words,
some of which it must be confessed were slang, but fashionable
slang, and that makes all the difference--a measured, graceful
way of utterance, with a style of pronunciation quite different
to that of Eccleston.
Pages:
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354