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Updated: June 11, 2025


Athelny for some fantastic reason took it into his head to discourse upon Byzantine history; he had been reading the later volumes of the Decline and Fall; and, his forefinger dramatically extended, he poured into the astonished ears of the suitor scandalous stories about Theodora and Irene.

He never expected people to be kind to him, and when they were it surprised and moved him. Now he could not prevent two large tears from rolling down his cheeks. The Athelnys discussed the arrangements and pretended not to notice to what a state his weakness had brought him. When Mrs. Athelny left them Philip leaned back in his chair, and looking out of the window laughed a little.

"Wouldn't she look splendid in a seventeenth-century costume? That's the sort of wife to marry, my boy. Look at her." "I believe you'd talk the hind leg off a donkey, Athelny," she answered calmly. She succeeded in buttoning her gloves, but before she went she turned to Philip with a kindly, slightly embarrassed smile. "You'll stay to tea, won't you?

He had refused instinctively from fear that he would be a bother, and he had a natural bashfulness of accepting favours. He knew besides that the Athelnys lived from hand to mouth, and with their large family had neither space nor money to entertain a stranger. "Of course you must come here," said Athelny. "Thorpe will tuck in with one of his brothers and you can sleep in his bed.

Sally brought them plates of rice pudding, rich, creamy, and luscious. Athelny attacked his with gusto. "One of the rules of this house is that Sunday dinner should never alter. It is a ritual. Roast beef and rice pudding for fifty Sundays in the year. On Easter Sunday lamb and green peas, and at Michaelmas roast goose and apple sauce. Thus we preserve the traditions of our people.

By nine o'clock all was quiet in the meadow and everyone in bed but one or two men who still lingered in the public-house and would not come back till it was closed at ten. Athelny walked there with Philip. But before he went Mrs. Athelny said to him: "We breakfast about a quarter to six, but I daresay you won't want to get up as early as that. You see, we have to set to work at six."

Philip could see that they looked upon Athelny as a little queer; but they liked him none the less and they listened open-mouthed while he discoursed with his impetuous fluency on the beauty of the seventeenth-century ceiling. "What a crime to pull this down, eh, Hodgson? You're an influential citizen, why don't you write to the papers and protest?"

Lawson was just going out to luncheon and asked Philip to come too. Philip could hardly eat, he was so glad to get some solid food. On Sunday he was sure of a good dinner from Athelny. He hesitated to tell the Athelnys what had happened to him: they had always looked upon him as comparatively well-to-do, and he had a dread that they would think less well of him if they knew he was penniless.

The man in shirt sleeves gave a laugh and said to Philip: "Mr. Athelny will 'ave his little joke. They do say these 'ouses are that insanitory, it's not safe to live in them." "Sanitation be damned, give me art," cried Athelny. "I've got nine children and they thrive on bad drains. No, no, I'm not going to take any risk. None of your new-fangled notions for me!

"There's always a good dinner on Sundays so long as Athelny's in work," she said, "and it's a charity to come and talk to him." On the following Saturday Philip received a postcard from Athelny saying that they were expecting him to dinner next day; but fearing their means were not such that Mr. Athelny would desire him to accept, Philip wrote back that he would only come to tea.

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