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Updated: May 21, 2025
Grindley and the old hen would be glad to see us; and I'll introduce you to the Blackmores, a delightful mother and four daughters; all charming girls with three thousand a piece. I wish you could only hear Clementina Blackmore sing Will you still be true to me? Harry, if ever I am so left to myself as to think of marrying, that's the girl!
"Leave me this minute!" commanded Miss Appleyard. Instead of which, Grindley junior seized both her hands. "I love you! I adore you! I worship you!" poured forth young Grindley, forgetful of all Miss Appleyard had ever told him concerning the folly of tautology. "You had no right," said Miss Appleyard. "I couldn't help it," pleaded young Grindley. "And that isn't the worst."
The haughty lady withdrew her eyes from a spot some ten miles beyond the back of the shop, where hitherto they had been resting, and fixed them for the first time upon Grindley junior. "Thank you," said the haughty lady. Grindley junior looked up and immediately, to his annoyance, felt that he was blushing. Grindley junior blushed easily it annoyed him very much.
"You haven't done too well at school in fact, your school career has disappointed me." "I know I'm not clever," Grindley junior offered as an excuse. "Why not? Why aren't you clever?" His son and heir was unable to explain. "You are my son why aren't you clever? It's laziness, sir; sheer laziness!" "I'll try and do better at Oxford, sir honour bright I will!"
Were not his school-books full of caricatures of the masters? Whilst his tutor, Grindley, was lecturing him, did he not draw Grindley instinctively under his very nose? A painter Clive was determined to be, and nothing else; and Clive, being then some sixteen years of age, began to study the art, en regle, under the eminent Mr. Gandish, of Soho.
But Grindley, with some six or seven others, was still there. And there, also, always in the next field to the left, was George Vavasor. He had spoken no word to any one since the hunt commenced, nor had he wished to speak to any one. He desired to sell his horse, and he desired also to succeed in the run for other reasons than that, though I think he would have found it difficult to define them.
And then Grindley junior's guardian angel must surely have slipped into the room, for Miss Appleyard, irritated beyond endurance at the philosophical indifference of the bust of William Shakespeare, turned away from it, and as she did so, caught sight of herself in the looking- glass. Miss Appleyard approached the glass a little nearer. A woman's hair is never quite as it should be.
Here was a pretty kettle of fish! That Grindley junior should defy his own parent, risk possibly the loss of his inheritance, had seemed to both a not improper proceeding. When Nathaniel George had said with fine enthusiasm: "Let him keep his money if he will; I'll make my own way; there isn't enough money in the world to pay for losing you!"
If old Vavasor were to die to-morrow, Vavasor Hall would go just as he might choose to leave it. George may be a ruined man for aught I know " "There's no doubt about that, I believe," said Grindley. "Perhaps not, Grindems; but he can't have lost Vavasor Hall because he has never as yet had an interest in it. He's the natural heir, and will probably get it some day."
But Vavasor was the winner, and when he left the room he became the subject of some ill-natured remarks. "I wonder he likes coming in here," said Grindley, who had himself been the man to invite him to belong to the club, and who had at one time indulged the ambition of an intimacy with George Vavasor. "I can't understand it," said Calder Jones, who was a little bitter about his money.
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