What a joy it was to get away from stuffy courts
of justice into the pure Warwickshire air. What a joy to drink of the
wine of life. What was that? Only those that drank of the wine
could tell.
"What about the poor devils that only get the dregs?" muttered Dick.
Austin declared that the real wine had no dregs. He called his mother
and Katherine Holroyd to witness. Mrs. Ware was not sure. Old port had
to be very carefully decanted. Did he remember the fuss his dear father
used to make about it? She was very glad there was no more left--for
Dick would be sure to drink it and it would go to his head.
"Or his toes!" cried Viviette.
When Austin explained Viviette's meaning to his mother, who had not an
allusive habit of mind, she acquiesced placidly. Port was not good for
gouty people. Their poor father suffered severely. Austin listened to
her reminiscences and turned the talk to the drive. It had been more
like driving through Paradise with Pegasus harnessed to Venus's car than
anything else. He must take his mother out and show her what a good
judge of horseflesh was dear old Dick.
Pages:
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71