False Colours

If,"said the Dowager, after a pregnant silence," I had ever dared to speak so to my grandmother, I should have been soundly whipped and confined to my bedchamber on bread-and-water for a sennight!" The gravity vanished from Cressy's face. "no, would you, Ma'am? How very brave your parents must have been!

You absurd boy! Oh, Evelyn, I'm so thankful you've come, but what in the world has detained you? I've been sick with apprehension!" There was a quizzical gleam in the gentleman's eyes, but he said in accents of deep reproach: "Come, come, Mama - !" "It may be very well for you to say Come, come, Mama," she retorted, "but when you faithfully promised to return not a day later than -" She broke off, staring down at him in sudden doubt. Abandoning the portmanteau, the gentleman shrugged the greatcoat from his shoulder, pulled off his hat, and mounted the remaining stairs two at a time, saying still more reproachfully: "No, really, Mama! How can you be so unnatural a parent?" "Kit!" uttered his unnatural parent, in a smothered shriek. "Oh, my darling, my dearest son!

He shut the door, and stood looking across the room at her. 'Cressy, what did you mean when you told that harridan that your affections were engaged?' The colour deepened a little in her cheeks, but she replied lightly: 'Well, she talked so much like someone in a bad play that I became carried away myself! Besides, I had to say something to convince her! I could see she didn't quite believe me when I said I wasn't going to marry your brother.' He let his breath go in a long sigh, and walked forward, setting his hands on her shoulders, and saying: 'You don't know how much I have wanted to tell you the truth! Cressy, my dear one, forgive me! I've treated you abominably, and I love you so much!' Miss Stavely, who had developed an interest in the top button of his coat, looked shyly up at this. 'Do you, Kit?' she asked. 'Truly?' Mr Fancot, preferring actions to words, said nothing whatsoever in answer to this, but took her in his arms and kissed her. Miss Stavely, who had previously thought him unfailingly gentle and courteous, perceived, in the light of this novel experience, that she had been mistaken: there was nothing gentle about Mr Fancot's crushing embrace; and his behaviour in paying no heed at all to her faint protest could only be described as extremely uncivil. She was wholly unused to such treatment, and she had a strong suspicion that her grandmother would condemn her conduct in submitting to it, but as Mr Fancot seemed to be dead to all sense and propriety it was clearly useless to argue with him.

One is for ever hearing of persons who have lost their fortunes at gaming, but one never hears of anyone who has won a fortune. It seems very odd to me. Where do all the lost fortunes go to?

Tell him that I shan’t interfere in any way! I shall, of course, but he will never know it, so you needn’t scruple to say that, dearest!

Yes, you may laugh, but you have no experience of such matters. I assure you, the instant you begin to practise economy you will find yourself spending far more than ever you did before you embarked on such a ruinous course!

Nonsense, Cosmo, how can you talk so?’ exclaimed his sister. ‘I’m sure he isn’t sickly, even if he has got a little headache!’ She smiled encouragingly at Ambrose, sublimely unconscious of having offended all three Cliffes: Ambrose, because, however much he might dislike having an incipient boil pointed out, he was proud of his headaches, which often earned for him a great deal of attention; Cosmo, because he had for some years subscribed to his wife’s view of the matter, finding in Ambrose’s delicacy an excuse for his sad want of interest in any manly sport; and Emma, because she regarded any suggestion that her only child was not in a deplorable state of debility as little short of an insult.

Would you believe it? – the instant she clapped eyes on me, she said that she saw I had taken to dyeing my hair! I was never more shocked, for it is quite untrue! It is not dyeing one’s hair merely to restore its colour when it begins to fade a little! I denied it, of course, but all she did was to give the horridest laugh, which made me feel ready to sink, as you may suppose!

I could never fancy any other female. Never shall! That’s why you see me now, a lonely man, with no one to care for, and no one to care a straw for me!’ As he presented the appearance of a comfortable hedonist, Kit was bereft of words.

It is dreadfully tedious to be obliged to listen to poetry, even when it has been composed in one’s honour. But in another– oh, Kit, you won’t understand, but to be three- and- forty, and still be able to attach foolish boys, is such a comfort!

But the very qualities which had fascinated Denville in the girl offended him in the wife..

Well, I've never written a line of poetry in my life: it is not my way! But if I *did* write about you I shouldn't call you a paltry daffodil! I should liken you to a rose--one of those yellow ones, with a deep golden heart, and a sweet scent!" said Sir Bonamy, warming to the theme. "Nonsense!" she said briskly. "You would be very much more likely to call me a plum partridge, or a Spanish fritter!

Mr. Fancot, preferring actions to words, said nothing whatsoever in answer to this, but took her in his arms and kissed her. Miss Stavely, who had previously thought him unfailingly gentle and courteous, perceived, in the light of this novel experience, that she had been mistaken: there was nothing gentle about Mr. Fancot's crushing embrace; and his behavior in paying no heed at all to her faint protest could only be described as extremely uncivil. She was wholly unused to such treatment, and she had a strong suspicion that her grandmother would condemn her conduct in submitting to it, but as Mr. Fancot seemed to be dead to all sense of propriety it was clearly useless to argue with him.

Lord Denville, I regard her ladyship as an angel!’ said Mr Horning reverently. ‘Oh, no, no, you take too melancholy a view of her case!’ Kit assured him. ‘We trust she may– with care– enjoy several more years of life, and tolerably good health!’ With these optimistic words he smiled sweetly at the stunned poet, and passed into the house.

When I’ve worried myself sick, fancying all kinds of things; but then I get to thinking that his lordship is like a cat: fling him anyway you choose, he’ll land on his feet!

Everything hangs upon his return! He is

for one couldn’t expect her to dine in the housekeeper’s

The truth, Miss Stavely, without any flummery, is that the more I see of you the greater becomes my conviction that you are worthy of a better man than I am.

Oh, Kit, don't joke me! I am going distracted!

Evelyn says that they are all of them truly good and saintly! Indeed, he described Patience to me as an angel! Well, dearest, I wouldn’t for a moment deny that that is – is most admirable, but I find saintly persons excessively uncomfortable, and I cannot live with an angel!

Ay, and what do you think he was doing when I walked in? Reading poetry to her! What a booberkin! I can tell you this, my boy: in my day we’d more rumgumption than to bore a pretty woman into a lethargy!

If the worst comes to the worst I can always take Evelyn’s place, can’t I?