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Updated: June 5, 2025
I should be really glad to take a lesson of these men and their plans for social improvement. 'You will have a fine opportunity this evening. Don't you dine at Minchampstead? 'Yes. Do you? 'Mr. Jingle dines everywhere, except at home. Will you take me over in your trap? 'Done. But whom shall we meet there? 'The Lavingtons, and Vieuxbois, and Vaurien, and a parson or two, I suppose.
"And, meanwhile, there are foreign employments of which neither those who bestow them, nor those who accept them, are expected to talk much: but for which you, if I am rightly informed, would be especially fitted." Tom bowed; and his face spoke a hundred assents. "Very well; if you will come over to Minchampstead to-morrow, I will give you letters to friends of mine in town.
The colonel shrugged his shoulders. 'Quien sabe? said the Spanish girl, when they asked her who was her child's father. But here comes my kit on a clod's back, and it is time to dress for dinner. So to the dinner-party they went. Lord Minchampstead was one of the few noblemen Lancelot had ever met who had aroused in him a thorough feeling of respect. He was always and in all things a strong man.
It was a curious feature of lower humanity, which she might investigate and analyse harmlessly as a cold scientific spectator; and, in her mingled pride and purity, she used to indulge Lancelot in metaphysical disquisitions about love and beauty, like that first one in their walk home from Minchampstead, from which a less celestially innocent soul would have shrunk.
Mark inquired; Lord Minchampstead inquired; great personages who had need of him at home and abroad inquired: but all in vain. A few knew, and told Lord Minchampstead, who told Mark, in confidence, that he had been heard of last in the Circassian mountains, about Christmas, 1854: but since then all was blank. He had vanished into the infinite unknown.
'But I am sorry to say that, as far as I can find from my agents, when the upper classes write cheap publications, the lower classes will not read them. 'Too true, said Vieuxbois. 'Is not the cause, asked Lancelot, 'just that the upper classes do write them? 'The writings of working men, certainly, said Lord Minchampstead, 'have an enormous sale among their own class.
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