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Updated: May 25, 2025
Bluff and without sentiment, he himself set little store by that, smiling up his sleeve for he was both kindly and prudent at his wife who had been a Tomson. It was not in Stanley to appreciate the peculiar flavor of the Moretons, that something which in spite of their naivete and narrowness, had really been rather fine.
They regard us as a very degrading connection. Doubtless it will hurt Ben Moreton with his readers to be connected with a financial pirate like myself, quite as much as it will hurt me in the eyes of most of my fellow board members when it becomes known that my son-in-law's brother is the editor of Liberty." "The Moretons disapprove," repeated Crystal, to whom the idea was not at all agreeable.
He would consider such a connection quite beneath his family. He disapproves of Eugenia as a sister-in-law." "How could any one disapprove of her?" asked her sister, hotly. "Jevver hear such nerve?" said Eddie. "It's not Eugenia; it's capital Moreton disapproves of," Mr. Cord went on, patiently explaining. "You see it never crossed our minds that the Moretons might object, but of course they do.
But the Moretons did quarrel more bitterly than ever before, and that is saying a great deal. With the extraordinary tenacity of memory that develops under strong emotion, they each contrived to recall and to mention everything which the other had done that was wrong, ridiculous, or humiliating since their earliest days.
Those elms had stood there when the old Moretons walked past them through corn-fields to church of a Sunday. Away on the left above the lake, the little walled mound had come in view. Something in Felix always stirred at sight of it, and, squeezing Nedda's arm, he said: "See that silly wall? Behind there Granny's ancients lived. Gone now new house new lake new trees new everything."
There was ever to him a special flavor about the elm-girt fields, the flowery coppices, of this country of the old Moretons, a special fascination in its full, white-clouded skies, its grass-edged roads, its pied and creamy cattle, and the blue-green loom of the Malvern hills. If God walked anywhere for him, it was surely here. Sentiment!
And yet the deep fibres of heredity from her papistic Highland ancestors, and from old pious Moretons, drew him constantly to this spot at times when no one would be about.
And yet there was that in her face which made him feel a brute to go. Passing out of the house, sunk in its Monday hush, no vestige of a Bigwig left, Felix came to that new-walled mound where the old house of the Moretons had been burned 'by soldiers from Tewkesbury and Gloucester, as said the old chronicles dear to the heart of Clara. And on the wall he sat him down.
To him, such Moretons as were left were 'dry enough sticks, clean out of it. They were of a breed that was already gone, the simplest of all country gentlemen, dating back to the Conquest, without one solitary conspicuous ancestor, save the one who had been physician to a king and perished without issue marrying from generation to generation exactly their own equals; living simple, pious, parochial lives; never in trade, never making money, having a tradition and a practice of gentility more punctilious than the so-called aristocracy; constitutionally paternal and maternal to their dependents, constitutionally so convinced that those dependents and all indeed who were not 'gentry, were of different clay, that they were entirely simple and entirely without arrogance, carrying with them even now a sort of Early atmosphere of archery and home-made cordials, lavender and love of clergy, together with frequent use of the word 'nice, a peculiar regularity of feature, and a complexion that was rather parchmenty.
Back to well-fed countrymen who could not read, with Common rights, and a kindly feeling for old 'Moretons, who had a kindly feeling for them!" Back to all that? A dream! Sirs! A dream! There was nothing for it now, but progress! Progress! On with the dance! Let engines rip, and the little, squash-headed fellows with them!
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