One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

George Meredith
girl, after her listening to Dudley Sowerby’s addresses, checked
his contempt for the latter. He could not despise the suitor
he sided with against another and seemingly now a more
dangerous. Unable quite to repress the sentiment, he proceeded
immediately to put it to his uses. For we have no
need to be scrupulously formal and precise in the exposition
of circumstances to a fellow who may thank the stars if such
a girl condescends to give him a hearing. He had this idea
through the conception of his girl’s generosity. And furthermore,
the cognizant eye of a Lucretian Alma Mater having
seat so strongly in Victor, demanded as a right an effusion of
the promising amorous graces on the part of the acceptable
applicant to the post of husband of that peerless. These being
absent, evidently non-existent, it seemed sufficient for
the present, after the fashion of the young gentleman, to
capitulate the few material matters briefly.
They were dotted along with a fine disregard of the stateliness
of the sum to be settled on Nesta Victoria, and with a
distant but burning wish all the while, that the suitor had
been one to touch his heart and open it, inspiriting it—as
could have been done—to disclose for good and all the things
utterable. Victor loved clear honesty, as he loved light: and
though he hated to be accused of not showing a clean face in
the light, he would have been moved and lifted to confess to
a spot by the touch at his heart. Dudley Sowerby’s deficiencies,
however, were outweighed by the palpable advantages
of his birth, his prospects, and his good repute for conduct;
add thereto his gentlemanly manners. Victor sighed again
over his poor Fredi; and in telling Mr. Sowerby that the choice
must be left to her, he had the regrets of a man aware of his
persuasive arts and how they would be used, to think that he
was actually making the choice.
Observe how fatefully he who has a scheme is the engine
of it; he is no longer the man of his tastes or of his principles;
he is on a line of rails for a terminus; and he may cast languishing
eyes across waysides to right and left, he has doomed
himself to proceed, with a self-devouring hunger for the half
desired; probably manhood gone at the embrace of it. This
may be or not, but Nature has decreed to him the forfeit of
pleasure. She bids us count the passage of a sober day for the
service of the morrow; that is her system; and she would
have us adopt it, to keep in us the keen edge for cutting,
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