Edward Bulwer-Lytton
What Will He Do with It? Volume 07
BOOK VII
CHAPTER I
VIGNETTES FOR THE NEXT BOOK OF BEAUTY.
"I quite agree with you, Alban; Honoria Vipont is a very superior young lady."
"I knew you would think so!" cried the Colonel, with more warmth than usual to him.
"Many years since," resumed Darrell, with reflective air, "I read Miss Edgeworth's novels; and in conversing with Miss Honoria Vipont, methinks I confer with one of Miss Edgeworth's heroinesso rational, so prudent, so well-behavedso free from silly romantic notionsso replete with solid information, moral philosophy and natural historyso sure to regulate her watch and her heart to the precise moment, for the one to strike, and the other to throband to marry at last a respectable steady husband, whom she will win with dignity, and would lose with decorum! A very superior girl indeed."
["Darrell speaksnot the author. Darrell is unjust to the more exquisite female characters of a Novelist, admirable for strength of sense, correctness of delineation, terseness of narrative, and lucidity of style-nor less admirable for the unexaggerated nobleness of sentiment by which some of her heroines are notably distinguished.]
"Though your description of Miss Vipont is satirical," said Alban Morley, smiling, in spite of some irritation, "yet I will accept it as panegyric; for it conveys, unintentionally, a just idea of the qualities that make an intelligent coinpanion and a safe wife. And those are the qualities we must look to, if we marry at our age. We are no longer boys," added the Colonel sententiously.
DARRELL."Alas, no! I wish we were. But the truth of your remark is indisputable. Ah, look! Is not that a face which might make an octogenarian forget that he is not a boy?what regular features! and what a blush!"
The friends were riding in the park; and as Darrell spoke, he bowed to a young lady, who, with one or two others, passed rapidly by in a barouche. It was that very handsome young lady to whom Lionel had seen him listening so attentively in the great crowd, for which Carr Vipont's family party had been deserted.
Yes; Lady Adela is one of the loveliest girls in Loudon," said the Colonel, who had also lifted his hat as the barouche whirled by"and amiable too: I have known her ever since she was born. Her father and I are great friendsan excellent man but stingy. I had much difficulty in arranging the eldest girl's marriage with Lord Bolton, and am a trustee in the settlement. If you feel a preference for Lady Adela, though I don't think she would suit you so well as Miss Vipont, I will answer for her father's encouragement and her consent. 'Tis no drawback to you, though it is to most of her admirers, when I add, 'There's nothing with her!'"
"And nothing in her! which is worse," said Darrell.
"Still, it is pleasant to gaze on a beautiful landscape, even though the soil be barren."
COLONEL MORLEY."That depends upon whether you are merely the artistic spectator of the landscape, or the disappointed proprietor of the soil."
"Admirable!" said Darrell; "you have disposed of Lady Adela. So ho! so ho!" Darrell's horse (his old high-nettled horse, freshly sent to him from Fawley, and in spite of the five years that had added to its age, of spirit made friskier by long repose) here put down its ears lashed out and indulged in a bound which would have unseated many a London rider. A young Amazon, followed hard by some two or three young gentlemen and their grooms, shot by, swift and reckless as a hero at Balaclava. But With equal suddenness, as she caught sight of Darrellwhose hand and voice had already soothed the excited nerves of his steedthe Amazon wheeled round and gained his side. Throwing up her veil, she revealed a face so prettily arch, so perversely gaywith eye of radiant hazel, and fair locks half loosened from their formal braidthat it would have beguiled resentment from the most insensiblereconciled to danger the most timid. And yet there was really a grace of humility in the apologies she tendered for her discourtesy and thoughtlessness. As the girl reined her light palfrey by Darrell's side-turning from the young companions who had now joined her, their hackneys in a foam-and devoting to his ear all her lively overflow of happy spirits, not untempered by a certain deference, but still apparently free from dissimulation Daxrell's grand face lighted uphis mellow laugh, unrestrained, though low, echoed her sportive tones; her youth, her joyousness were irresistibly contagious. Alban Morley watched observant, while interchanging talk with her attendant comrades, young men of high ton, but who belonged to that /jeunesse doree/ with which the surface of life patrician is fretted overyoung men with few ideas, fewer dutiesbut with plenty of leisureplenty of healthplenty of money in their pocketsplenty of debts to their tradesmendaring at Meltonscheming at T'attersall'spride to maiden auntsplague to thrifty fathers fickle lovers, but solid matchesin brief, fast livers, who get through their youth betimes, and who, for the most part, are middle-aged before they are thirtytamed by wedlocksobered by the responsibilities that come with the cares of property and the dignities of rankundergo abrupt metamorphosis into chairmen of quarter sessions, county members, or decorous peers;their ideas enriched as their duties growtheir opinions, once loose as willows to the wind, stiffening into the palisades of fenced proprietyvaluable, busy men, changed as Henry V., when coming into the cares of state, he said to the Chief Justice, "There is my hand;" and to Sir John Falstaff,