One of Our Conquerors - World eBook Library

George Meredith
rather to excess of wariness, habitual in the mind of a longheaded
man, whose incorrigibly impulsive fits had necessarily
to be rectified by a vigilant dexterity.
‘Buttermore!’ ejaculated Fenellan: ‘Groseman Buttermore!
Mrs. Victor’s Father Confessor is the Rev. Septimus Barmby.
Groseman Buttermore—Septimus Barmby. Is there anything
in names? Truly, unless these clerical gentlemen take them
up at the crossing of the roads long after birth, the names
would appear the active parts of them, and themselves mere
marching supports, like the bearers of street placard-advertisements.
Now, I know a Septimus Barmby, and you a
Groseman Buttermore, and beyond the fact that Reverend
starts up before their names without mention, I wager it’s
about all we do know of them. They’re Society’s trusty rocklimpets,
no doubt.’
‘My respect for the cloth is extreme.’ Carling’s short cough
prepared the way for deductions. ‘Between ourselves, they
are men of the world.’
Fenellan eyed benevolently the worthy attorney, whose innermost
imp burst out periodically, like a Dutch clocksentry,
to trot on his own small grounds for thinking himself of the
community of the man of the world. ‘You lawyers dress in
another closet,’ he said. ‘The Rev. Groseman has the ear of
the lady?’
‘He has:—one ear.’
‘Ah? She has the other open for a man of the world, perhaps.’
‘Listens to him, listens to me, listens to Jarniman; and we
neither of us guide her. She’s very curious—a study. You think
you know her—next day she has eluded you. She’s emotional,
she’s hard; she’s a woman, she’s a stone. Anything you like;
but don’t count on her. And another thing—I’m bound to
say it of myself,’ Carling claimed close hearing of Fenellan
over a shelf of saladstuff, ‘no one who comes near her has
any real weight with her in this matter.’
‘Probably you mix cream in your salad of the vinegar and
oil,’ said Fenellan. ‘Try jelly of mutton.’—’You give me a
new idea. Latterly, fond as I am of salads, I’ve had rueful
qualms. We’ll try it.’
‘You should dine with Victor Radnor.’
‘French cook, of course!’
‘Cordon bleu.’
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