The Amateur Gentleman

"And where is she?"

"Haven't the least idea. However, I went down to beard my Roman, y'

know, alone and single handed. Great mistake! Had Clemency been with

me the flintiest of Roman P's would have relented, for who could

resist--Clemency? As it was, I did my best, Bev--ran over her

points--I mean--tried to describe her, y' know, but it was no go, Bev,

no go--things couldn't have gone worse!"

"How?"

"'Sir,' says I--in an easy, off-hand tone, my dear fellow, and it

was after dinner, you'll understand,--'Sir, I've decided to act

upon your very excellent advice, and get married. I intend to settle

down, at once!' 'Indeed, Horatio?' says he,--(Roman of eye, Bev)

'who is she, pray?' 'The most glorious woman in the world, sir!'

says I. 'Of course,' says he, 'but--which?' This steadied me a

little, Bev, so I took a fresh grip and began again: 'Sir,' says I,

'beauty in itself is a poor thing at best--' 'Therefore,' says my

Roman (quick as a flash, my dear fellow) 'therefore it is just as

well that beauty should not come--entirely empty-handed!' 'Sir,' says

I--(calmly, you'll understand, Bev, but with just sufficient

firmness to let him see that, after all, he was only a father) 'Sir,'

says I, 'beauty is a transient thing at best, unless backed up by

virtue, honor, wisdom, courage, truth, purity, nobility of soul--'

'Horatio,' says my father (pulling me up short, Bev) 'you do well to

put these virtues first but, in the wife of the future Earl of

Bamborough, I hearken for such common, though necessary attributes

as birth, breeding, and position, neither of which you have yet

mentioned, but I'm impatient, perhaps, and these come at the end of

your list,--pray continue.' 'Sir,' says I, 'my future wife is above

such petty considerations!' 'Ah!' says my Roman, 'I feared so! She

is then, a--nobody, I presume?' 'Sir--most beautiful girl in all

England,' says I. 'Ha!' says my Roman, nodding, 'then she is a

nobody; that settles it.' 'She's all that is pure and good!' says I.

'And a nobody, beyond a doubt!' says he. 'She's everything sweet,

noble and brave,' says I. 'But--a nobody!' says he again. Now I'll

confess I grew a little heated at this, my dear fellow, though I

kept my temper admirably--oh, I made every allowance for him, as a

self-respecting son should, but, though filial, I maintained a front

of adamant, Bev. But, deuce take it! he kept on at me with his

confounded 'nobody' so long that I grew restive at last and jibbed.

'So you are determined to marry a nobody, are you, Horatio?' says he.

'No, my Lord,' says I, rising, (and with an air of crushing finality,

Bev) 'I am about to be honored with the hand of one who, by stress

of circumstances, was for some time waiting maid at the 'Spotted Cow'

inn, at Frittenden.' Well, Bev--that did it, y' know! My Roman

couldn't say a word, positively gaped at me and, while he gaped, I

bowed, and walked out entirely master of the situation. Result--

independence, happiness, and--beggary."