The Virginians by William Makepeace Thackeray (kiss me liar novel english txt) đź“–
- Author: William Makepeace Thackeray
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In this mood, the young fellow was interrupted by the appearance of a friend, who, on any other day—even on that one when his conscience was so uneasy—was welcome to Mr. Warrington. This was no other than Mr. Lambert, in his military dress, but with a cloak over him, who had come from the country, had been to the Captain-General's levee that morning, and had come thence to visit his young friend in Bond Street.
Harry may have thought Lambert's greeting rather cold; but being occupied with his own affairs, he put away the notion. How were the ladies of Oakhurst, and Miss Hetty, who was ailing when he passed through in the autumn? Purely? Mr. Warrington was very glad. They were come to stay a while in London with their friend, Lord Wrotham? Mr. Harry was delighted—though it must be confessed his face did not exhibit any peculiar signs of pleasure when he heard the news.
“And so you live at White's, and with the great folks; and you fare sumptuously every day, and you pay your court at St. James's, and make one at my Lady Yarmouth's routs, and at all the card-parties in the Court end of the town?” asks the Colonel.
“My dear Colonel, I do what other folks do,” says Harry, with rather a high manner.
“Other folks are richer folks than some folks, my dear lad.”
“Sir!” says Mr. Warrington, “I would thank you to believe that I owe nothing for which I cannot pay!”
“I should never have spoken about your affairs,” said the other, not noticing the young man's haughty tone, “but that you yourself confided them to me. I hear all sorts of stories about the Fortunate Youth. Only at his Royal Highness's even today, they were saying how rich you were already, and I did not undeceive them——”
“Colonel Lambert, I cannot help the world gossiping about me!” cries Mr. Warrington, more and more impatient.
“—And what prodigious sums you had won. Eighteen hundred one night—two thousand another—six or eight thousand in all! Oh! there were gentlemen from White's at the levee too, I can assure you, and the army can fling a main as well as you civilians!”
“I wish they would meddle with their own affairs,” says Harry, scowling at his old friend.
“And I, too, you look as if you were going to say. Well, my boy, it is my affair and you must let Theo's father and Hetty's father, and Harry Warrington's father's old friend say how it is my affair.” Here the Colonel drew a packet out of his pocket, whereof the lappets and the coat-tails and the general pocket accommodations were much more ample than in the scant military garments of present warriors. “Look you, Harry. These trinkets which you sent with the kindest heart in the world to people who love you, and would cut off their little hands to spare you needless pain, could never be bought by a young fellow with two or three hundred a year. Why, a nobleman might buy these things, or a rich City banker, and send them to his—to his daughters, let us say.”
“Sir, as you say, I meant only kindness,” says Harry, blushing burning-red.
“But you must not give them to my girls, my boy. Hester and Theodosia Lambert must not be dressed up with the winnings off the gaming-table, saving your presence. It goes to my heart to bring back the trinkets. Mrs. Lambert will keep her present, which is of small value, and sends you her love and a God bless you—and so say I, Harry Warrington, with all my heart.” Here the good Colonel's voice was much moved, and his face grew very red, and he passed his hand over his eyes ere he held it out.
But the spirit of rebellion was strong in Mr. Warrington. He rose up from his seat, never offering to take the hand which his senior held out to him. “Give me leave to tell Colonel Lambert,” he said, “that I have had somewhat too much advice from him. You are for ever volunteering it, sir, and when I don't ask it. You make it your business to inquire about my gains at play, and about the company I keep. What right have you to control my amusements or my companions? I strive to show my sense of your former kindness by little presents to your family, and you fling—you bring them back.”
“I can't do otherwise, Mr. Warrington,” says the Colonel, with a very sad face.
“Such a slight may mean nothing here, sir, but in our country it means war, sir!” cries Mr. Warrington. “God forbid I should talk of drawing a sword against the father of ladies who have been as mother and sister to me: but you have wounded my heart, Colonel Lambert—you have, I won't say insulted, but humiliated me, and this is a treatment I will bear from no man alive! My servants will attend you to the door, sir!” Saying which, and rustling in his brocade dressing-gown, Mr. Warrington, with much state, walked off to his bedroom.
CHAPTER XLIV. Contains what might, perhaps, have been expected
On the rejection of his peace-offerings, our warlike young American chief chose to be in great wrath not only against Colonel Lambert, but the whole of that gentleman's family. “He has humiliated me before the girls!” thought the young man. “He and Mr. Wolfe, who were forever preaching morality to me, and giving themselves airs of superiority and protection, have again been holding me up to the family as a scapegrace and prodigal. They are so virtuous that they won't shake me by the hand, forsooth; and when I want to show them a little common gratitude, they fling my presents in my face!”
“Why, sir, the things must be worth a little fortune!” says Parson Sampson, casting an eye of covetousness on the two morocco boxes, in which, on their white satin cushions, reposed Mr. Sparks's golden gewgaws.
“They cost some money, Sampson,” says the young man. “Not that I would grudge ten times the amount to people who have been kind to me.”
“No, faith, sir, not if I know your honour!” interjects Sampson, who never lost a chance of praising his young patron to his face.
“The repeater, they told me, was a great bargain, and worth a hundred pounds at Paris. Little Miss Hetty I remember saying that she longed to have a repeating watch.”
“Oh, what a love!” cries the chaplain, “with a little circle of pearls on the back, and a diamond knob for the handle! Why, 'twould win any woman's heart, Sir!”
“There passes an apple-woman with a basket. I have a mind to fling the thing out to her!” cries Mr.
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