One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

One of Our Conquerors
him to think a happy passivity more sagacious than a restless
activity. We should let Fortune perform her part at the wheel
in working out her ends, should we not?—for, ten to one,
nine times out of ten we are thwarting her if we stretch out a
hand. And with the range of enjoyments possessed by Victor,
why this unceasing restlessness? Why, when we are not
near drowning, catch at apparent straws, which may be instruments
having sharp edges? Themison, as Mrs. Burman’s
medical man, might tell the lady tales that would irritate her
bag of venom.
Rarely though Fenellan was the critic on his friend, the
shadow cast over his negligent hedonism by Victor’s boiling
pressure, drove him into the seat of judgement. As a consequence,
he was rather a dull table-guest in the presence of
Dr. Themison, whom their host had pricked to anticipate
high entertainment from him. He did nothing to bridge the
crevasse and warm the glacier air at table when the doctor,
anecdotal intentionally to draw him out, related a decorous
but pungent story of one fair member of a sweet new sisterhood
in agitation against the fixed establishment of our chainmail
marriage-tie. An anecdote of immediate diversion was
wanted, expected: and Fenellan sat stupidly speculating upon
whether the doctor knew of a cupboard locked. So that Dr.
Themison was carried on by Lady Grace Halley’s humourous
enthusiasm for the subject to dilate and discuss and specify,
all in the irony of a judicial leaning to the side of the singleminded
social adventurers, under an assumed accord with
his audience; concluding: ‘So there’s an end of Divorce.’
‘By the trick of multiplication,’ Fenellan, now reassured,
was content to say. And that did not extinguish the cracker
of a theme; handled very carefully, as a thing of fire, it need
scarce be remarked, three young women being present.
Nataly had eyes on her girl, and was pleased at an alertness
shown by Mr. Sowerby to second her by crossing the dialogue.
As regarded her personal feelings, she was hardened,
so long as the curtains were about her to keep the world
from bending black brows of inquisition upon one of its
culprits. But her anxiety was vigilant to guard her girl from
an infusion of any of the dread facts of life not coming
through the mother’s lips: and she was a woman having the
feminine mind’s pudency in that direction, which does not
consent to the revealing of much. Here was the mother’s
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