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In spite of the superficiality of his own arguments, which I was not learned enough to detect, I was ingloriously routed. Darwin had kicked over the bucket, and that was all there was to it.... After we had left the club both Conybear and Laurens admitted they were somewhat disturbed, declaring that Ralph had gone too far.
"Head'sh all right, Martin." "To be sure it is, Mr. Peters. Now will ye rest aisy awhile, sir?" "I'm axphyxiated," cried another voice from the darkness, the mined voice of Jerome Kyme, our classmate. "Get the tackles under him!" came forth in commanding tones from Conybear. In the meantime many windows had been raised and much gratuitous advice was being given.
Before the meal was over he had inspired me with loyalty and pride, enlisted the admiration of Jerry and Conybear and Johnnie Laurens; we followed him into the smoking-room, sitting down in a row on a leather lounge behind our elders. Here, now that the gentlemen were alone, there was an inspiring largeness in their talk that fired the imagination.
Jerry's invitations were charily given, and valued accordingly; and more than once, at our table, I had felt a twinge of envy when Conybear or someone else had remarked, with the proper nonchalance, in answer to a question, that they were going to Weathersfield. Such was the name of the Kyme place....
Neither Laurens nor Conybear, however, were for annihilating it: although they took the other side of the discussion of a subject of which none of us knew anything, their attacks were but half-hearted; like me, they were still under the spell exerted by a youthful training. We were all of us aware of Ralph, who sat at some distance looking over the pages of an English sporting weekly.
The evening before my departure he arrived in company with two other gentlemen, a Mr. Talbot and a Mr. Saxes, whose names were spoken with respect in a sphere of which I had hitherto taken but little cognizance-Wall Street. Conybear informed me that they were "magnates,"... We were sitting in the drawing-room at tea, when they entered with Mr. Watling, and no sooner had he spoken to Mrs.
The note of that house was a tempered gaiety. Guests arrived from New York, spent the night and departed again without disturbing the even tenor of its ways. Unobtrusive servants ministered to their wants, and to mine.... Conybear was there, and two classmates from Boston, and we were treated with the amiable tolerance accorded to college youths and intimates of the son of the house.
In spite of the superficiality of his own arguments, which I was not learned enough to detect, I was ingloriously routed. Darwin had kicked over the bucket, and that was all there was to it.... After we had left the club both Conybear and Laurens admitted they were somewhat disturbed, declaring that Ralph had gone too far.
"Head'sh all right, Martin." "To be sure it is, Mr. Peters. Now will ye rest aisy awhile, sir?" "I'm axphyxiated," cried another voice from the darkness, the mined voice of Jerome Kyme, our classmate. "Get the tackles under him!" came forth in commanding tones from Conybear. In the meantime many windows had been raised and much gratuitous advice was being given.
Before the meal was over he had inspired me with loyalty and pride, enlisted the admiration of Jerry and Conybear and Johnnie Laurens; we followed him into the smoking-room, sitting down in a row on a leather lounge behind our elders. Here, now that the gentlemen were alone, there was an inspiring largeness in their talk that fired the imagination.
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