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182 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
" Oh ! I wouldn't have our boy marry a woman like one of
those, not if she had a million. I wouldn't, my child and my
blessing !" (This is addressed to a little darling who happens to
be eating sweet cakes, in a high chair, off the little table by his
mother's side, and who, though he certainly used to cry a good
deal at that period, shall be a mute personage in this history.)
"You are alluding to Blanche's little affair with _________ "
" No, I am not, sir !"
"How do you know which one I meant then ? _______ Or that
notorious disappointment of Agnes, when Lord Farintosh became a
widower ? If he wouldn't, she couldn't, you know, my dear. And
I am sure she tried her best : at least, everybody said so."
" Ah ! I have no patience with the way in which you people of
the world treat the most sacred of subjects—the most sacred, sir.
Do you hear me ? Is a woman's love to be pledged, and withdrawn
every day ? Is her faith and purity only to be a matter of barter,
and rank, and social consideration ? I am sorry, because I don't
wish to see Philip, who is good, and honest, and generous, and true
as yet—however great his faults may be—because I don't wish to
see him given up to ________ Oh ! it's shocking, shocking !"
Given up to what ? to anything dreadful in this world, or the
next ? Don't imagine that Philip's relations thought they were
doing Phil any harm by condescending to marry him, or themselves
any injury. A doctor's son, indeed ! Why, the Twysdens were far
better placed in the world than their kinsman of Old Parr Street ;
and went to better houses. The year's levée and drawing-room
would have been incomplete without Mr. and Mrs. Twysden. There
might be families with higher titles, more wealth, higher positions ;
but the world did not contain more respectable folks than the
Twysdens: of this every one of the family was convinced, from
Talbot himself down to his heir. If somebody or some Body of
savants would write the history of the harm that has been done in
the world by people who believe themselves to be virtuous, what a
queer edifying book it would be, and how poor oppressed rogues
might look up ! Who burn the Protestants ?—the virtuous Catholics,
to be sure. Who roast the Catholics?—the virtuous Reformers.
Who thinks I am a dangerous character, and avoids me at the club ?
—the virtuous Squaretoes. Who scorns? who persecutes? who
doesn't forgive?—the virtuous Mrs. Grundy. She remembers her
neighbour's peccadilloes to the third and fourth generation ; and if
she finds a certain man fallen in her path, gathers up her affrighted
garments with a shriek, for fear the muddy bleeding wretch should
contaminate her, and passes on.
I do not seek to create even surprises in this modest history,