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Updated: June 16, 2025
Narcissus gazed helplessly at Mudge; but Mudge had been seized with a flurry of his own, and misinterpreted the look as well as the stern question. "I I reckon 'tis me, Miss," he confessed. "Being partial to onions, and taking that liberty in Mr. Endymion's absence, knowing his dislike of the effluvium "
He was offering his arm, and she found herself joining in his laugh a happy, confidential little laugh. Dorothea cast a nervous glance towards her brother, but Endymion's back was turned. She saw that her partner noted the look, and half-defiantly she nodded towards the gallery as the French musicians struck into a jolly jigging quick- step with a crash at every third bar.
Endymion was a little embarrassed by this interview, for he had naturally a kind heart, and being young, it was still soft. The Rodneys had been truly good to him, and he was attached to them. Imogene had prepared Mr. Rodney for the change in Endymion's life, and Endymion himself had every reason to believe that in a worldly point of view the matter was entirely insignificant to his old landlord.
Behind his shoulder, three or four of the women servants hung about the doorway and peered in, between curiosity and terror. It was a part of Endymion's fastidiousness that the sight of blood that is, of human blood turned his stomach.
Such a chance had, before now, been looked back upon as the one bright spot in a long evening's experience. Dorothea loved all schoolboys for the kindness shown to her by these few. She went back to her seat, hard by a group to which Endymion was discoursing at large. Endymion's was a mellow voice, of rich compass, and he had a knack of compelling the attention of all persons within range.
All laughed, and all said something courteous to Endymion, and then after a few minutes they resumed their tasks, Endymion's work being to copy long lists of figures, and routine documents of public accounts. In the meantime, Mr. St. Barbe was busy in drawing up a public document of a different but important character, and which was conceived something in this fashion:
When one of the ancient poets found he was trying to grind out verses which came unwillingly, he said he was writing Vex not the Muse with idle prayers, She will not hear thy call; She steals upon thee unawares, Or seeks thee not at all. Soft as the moonbeams when they sought Endymion's fragrant bower, She parts the whispering leaves of thought To show her full-blown flower.
Or you may say that it is counterfeit silver, coined to take in the young fools who love to gaze upon it. It is, so to speak, a bad half-crown. As you will! but I am of Endymion's belief and no one was ever more intimate with the moon. For me the moon is a country of great seaports, whither all the ships of our dreams come home.
He moved so that he held Endymion's restless head over the line marked by Venable's boot. "All right, Charlie?" Venable asked of Granger. "All right," grunted Granger. "And wrong as hell. Get it over with." Venable raised his arm, his revolver high above his head. The bystanders swung up to their horses' backs.
The poet tells us this sorrow "were tragic at thirty," and asks, "Why is it trivial at thirteen!" "Trivial! what shall eclipse The pain of our childish woes? The rose-bud pales its lips When a very small zephyr blows. You smile, O Dian bland, If Endymion's glance is cold: But Despair seems close at hand To that hapless thirteen-year old!"
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