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Updated: June 14, 2025
But Lord Castleton must marry, not for a wife, but for a marchioness, marry some one who will wear his rank for him; take the trouble of splendor oft his hands, and allow him to retire into a corner and dream that he is Sedley Beaudesert once more! Yes, it must be so, the crowning sacrifice must be completed at the altar. But a truce to my complaints.
Trevanion have drawn their chairs close to each other in the middle of the room; Sir Sedley Beaudesert leans against the wall near the window, and behind my mother, who looks prettier and more pleased than usual since her Austin has his old friends about him; and I, leaning my elbow on the table and my chin upon my hand, am gazing with great admiration on Sir Sedley Beaudesert.
He had travelled much, he had read much, especially in memoirs, history, and belles-lettres, he made verses with grace and a certain originality of easy wit and courtly sentiment, he conversed delightfully, he was polished and urbane in manner, he was brave and honorable in conduct; in words he could flatter, in deeds he was sincere. Sir Sedley Beaudesert had never married.
Certainly I don't wish worse to my bitterest foe of five and twenty than such a rival as Sedley Beaudesert at seven and forty. Fanny, indeed, perplexed me horribly. Sometimes I fancied she liked me; but the fancy scarce thrilled me with delight before it vanished in the frost of a careless look or the cold beam of a sarcastic laugh.
Indeed, the change was so great that I exclaimed dubiously, "Is that Sir Sedley Beaudesert?" The footman looked at me, and touching his hat, said, with a condescending smile, "Yes, sir, now the Marquis of Castleton."
As Henry IV. wished every man to have his pot au feu, so Sir Sedley Beaudesert, if he could have had his way, would have every man served with an early cucumber for his fish, and a caraffe of iced water by the side of his bread and cheese. He thus evinced on politics a naive simplicity which delightfully contrasted his acuteness on matters of taste.
Again, as an amateur of art and a respectful servant of every muse, all whom the public had failed to patronize, painter, actor, poet, musician, turned, like dying sunflowers to the sun, towards the pitying smile of Sir Sedley Beaudesert.
Thus, from the first, out of all the brilliant idlers round Fanny Trevanion, my jealousy had pre- eminently fastened on Sir Sedley Beaudesert, though, to all seeming, without a cause. From the same instinct Vivian had conceived the same vague jealousy, a jealousy, in his instance, coupled with a deep dislike to his supposed rival, who had wounded his self-love.
"Poor fellow!" he would say, "it must be so painful to him to pass his life in saying 'No." So little did he know about that class of promisers, as if a man dunned ever said 'No'! As Beau Brummell, when asked if he was fond of vegetables, owned that he had once eat a pea, so Sir Sedley Beaudesert owned that he had once played high at piquet.
The blow fell rather upon me than my father, and my young shoulders bore it without much wincing. This settled to our universal satisfaction, I went to pay my farewell visit to Sir Sedley Beaudesert. He had made much of me during my stay in London.
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