Upon the whole there was something soothing
to one's vanity in appearing before the world as the person at present
responsible for her. It gave a man a certain dignity of position, and
his chief girding at fate had always risen from the fact that he had not
had dignity of position. He would not be held cheap in this matter, at
least. But sometimes, as he looked at the girl he turned hot and sick,
as it was driven home to him that he was no longer young, that he had
never been good-looking, and that he had cut the ground from under his
feet twelve years ago, when he had married Rosalie! If he could have
waited--if he could have done several other things--perhaps the clever
acting of a part, and his power of domination might have given him a
chance. Even that blackguard of a Mount Dunstan had a better one now.
He was young, at least, and free--and a big strong beast. He was
forced, with bitter reluctance, to admit that he himself was not even
particularly strong--of late he had felt it hideously.
So he detested Mount Dunstan the more for increasing reasons,
as he thought the matter over. It would seem, perhaps, but a
subtle pleasure to the normal mind, but to him there was
pleasure--support--aggrandisement--in referring to the ill case of the
Mount Dunstan estate, in relating illustrative anecdotes, in dwelling
upon the hopelessness of the outlook, and the notable unpopularity of
the man himself.
Pages:
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589