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In the amazing fantasy The Cream of the Jest Mr. Cabell has embodied the visions of the romancer Felix Kennaston so substantially that Kennaston's diurnal walks in Lichfield seem hardly as real as those nightly ventures which under the guise of Horvendile he makes into the glowing land he has created.
Kennaston's fault, she assured a pricking conscience, as she went out on the terrace before Selwoode. He had bothered her dreadfully. There she found Petheridge Jukesbury smoking placidly in the effulgence of the moonlight; and the rotund, pasty countenance he turned toward her was ludicrously like the moon's counterfeit in muddy water. I am sorry to admit it, but Mr.
Woods, especially, esteemed it a godsend; it staved off misfortune for at least a little; so he sat at Kathleen's side in silence, trying desperately to be happy, trying desperately not to see the tiny wrinkles, the faint crow's feet Time had sketched in her face as a memorandum of the work he meant to do shortly. I think we ought not to miss hearing Mr. Kennaston's discourse.
On this Margaret seated herself; and then pensively moved to the other end of the bench, because a slanting sunbeam fell there. Since it was absolutely necessary to blast Mr. Kennaston's dearest hopes, she thoughtfully endeavoured to distract his attention from his own miseries as far as might be possible by showing him how exactly like an aureole her hair was in the sunlight.
The glow of her eyes is very, very bright. Her father's careless words this morning, coupled with certain speeches of Mr. Kennaston's last night, have given her food for reflection. "He wouldn't dare," says Margaret, to no one in particular. "Oh, no, he wouldn't dare after what happened four years ago."
Kennaston, enviously, "what a thing it is to be practical!" And he laughed toward Margaret, in his whimsical way. Miss Hugonin had been strangely silent; but she returned Mr. Kennaston's smile, and began to take part in the conversation. "You're only an ignorant child," she rebuked him, "and a very naughty child, too, to make fun of us in this fashion." "Yes," Mr.
Kennaston tell me just now that he was dead? or was it the whisper, attractive?" The Colonel coughed. "Kennaston er Kennaston's a fool," he declared, helplessly. "Always said he was a fool. We'll have Jeal in presently." "No I remember now Mr. Kennaston said Billy would die very soon. You don't like people to disagree with you, do you, attractive?
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