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Updated: June 28, 2025
A good man, once started, goes forward; but an average man, so soon as the woman loses interest in his success as a tribute to her power, comes back to the battalion and is no more heard of. Wressley bore the first copy of his book to Simla, and, blushing and stammering, presented it to Miss Venner. She read a little of it. I give her review verbatim "Oh your book?
It was, as he sketched it, a great thing the work of his life a really comprehensive survey of a most fascinating subject to be written with all the special and laboriously acquired knowledge of Wressley of the Foreign Office a gift fit for an Empress. He told Miss Venner that he was going to take leave, and hoped, on his return, to bring her a present worthy of her acceptance. Would she wait?
In most big undertakings, one or two men do the work while the rest sit near and talk till the ripe decorations begin to fall. Wressley was the working-member of the Foreign Office firm, and, to keep him up to his duties when he showed signs of flagging, he was made much of by his superiors and told what a fine fellow he was.
When Wressley lifted up his voice, and spoke about such-and-such a succession to such-and-such a throne, the Foreign Office were silent, and Heads of Departments repeated the last two or three words of Wressley's sentences, and tacked "yes, yes," on to them, and knew that they were assisting the Empire to grapple with serious political contingencies.
Providence, however, had care of Wressley, He was immensely struck with Miss Venner's intelligence. He would have been more impressed had he heard her private and confidential accounts of his calls. He held peculiar notions as to the wooing of girls. He said that the best work of a man's career should be laid reverently at their feet.
We had a Viceroy in those days who knew exactly when to "gentle" a fractious big man, and to hearten-up a collar-galled little one, and so keep all his team level. He conveyed to Wressley the impression which I have just set down; and even tough men are apt to be disorganized by a Viceroy's praise. There was a case once but that is another story.
It's all about those howwid Wajahs. I didn't understand it." Wressley of the Foreign Office was broken, smashed, I am not exaggerating by this one frivolous little girl. All that he could say feebly was "But but it's my magnum opus! The work of my life." Miss Venner did not know what magnum opus meant; but she knew that Captain Kerrington had won three races at the last Gymkhana.
When Wressley lifted up his voice, and spoke about such-and-such a succession to such-and-such a throne, the Foreign Office were silent, and Heads of Departments repeated the last two or three words of Wressley's sentences, and tacked "yes, yes," on them, and knew that they were "assisting the Empire to grapple with serious political contingencies."
Certainly she would. Wressley drew seventeen hundred rupees a month. She would wait a year for that. Her mamma would help her to wait. So Wressley took one year's leave and all the available documents, about a truck-load, that he could lay hands on, and went down to Central India with his notion hot in his head. He began his book in the land he was writing of.
Wressley would have made a very good Clerk in the Herald's College had he not been a Bengal Civilian. Upon a day, between office and office, great trouble came to Wressley overwhelmed him, knocked him down, and left him gasping as though he had been a little school-boy.
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