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And when I've got it I'm ashamed of myself. And now when I do see something unselfish for me to do, I come upon grins I don't know where to turn how to act and I laugh at myself like a devil!" It was only friend Ripton's ear that was required, so his words went for little: but Ripton did say he thought there was small matter to be ashamed of in winning and wearing the Beauty of Earth.
His voice was in perfect tone the heroic mask admirable. Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to allude to the popular preacher. He was instantly introduced to Ripton's sister, Miss Thompson. The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew's choice of a minister.
What though his client exaggerated? Facts were at the bottom of what he said. And he was acute he had unmasked Ripton! Since Ripton's exposure he winced at a personal application in the text his client preached from. Possibly this was the secret source of part of his anger against that peccant youth. Mr.
"How many people are in there?" Mr. Crewe demanded. "Twenty-seven, when I came out," said Mr. Tooting, with commendable accuracy. "But it wants fifteen minutes to eight." "And who," asked Mr. Crewe, "is to introduce me?" An expression of indignation spread over Mr. Tooting's face. "There ain't a man in Ripton's got sand enough!" he exclaimed.
"How many people are in there?" Mr. Crewe demanded. "Twenty-seven, when I came out," said Mr. Tooting, with commendable accuracy. "But it wants fifteen minutes to eight." "And who," asked Mr. Crewe, "is to introduce me?" An expression of indignation spread over Mr. Tooting's face. "There ain't a man in Ripton's got sand enough!" he exclaimed.
His voice was in perfect tone the heroic mask admirable. Algernon examined the downcast visage at his side, and contrived to allude to the popular preacher. He was instantly introduced to Ripton's sister, Miss Thompson. The Captain bowed, smiling melancholy approval of his nephew's choice of a minister.
She would do anything in the world for me. I like her next best to my father and Austin. Good-bye old Rip." Poor little Letitia, after three perusals of this ingenuous epistle, where the laws of punctuation were so disregarded, resigned it to one of the pockets of her brother Ripton's best jacket, deeply smitten with the careless composer.
Sir Austin stepped forward to the desk. His proximity roused one of Ripton's senses, which blew a pall to the others. Down went the lid of the desk. Dismay, and the ardours of study, flashed together in Ripton's face.
They were fine men, offering inanimate homage. The trim of their whiskerage, the cut of their coats, the high-bred indolence in their aspect, eclipsed Ripton's sense of self- esteem. But they kindly looked over him.
Ripton gave him a commoner's obeisance; but getting to the door, the sense of the matter enlightened him. "It's a duel, my lord?" "No help for it, if his friends don't shut him up in Bedlam between this and to-morrow morning." Of all horrible things a duel was the worst in Ripton's imagination.
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