ady to
say good-bye to him "rather than see the truest lady in the world
insulted"--her words. And so he swallows his dose for health, and looks a
trifle sourish. Antecedents, I suppose: has to stomach them. But if a
man's fond of a woman--if he knows he saves her from slipping lower--and
it's an awful world, for us to let a woman be under its wheels:--I say, a
woman who has a man to lean on, unless she's as downright corrupt as two
or three of the men we've known:--upon my word, Dartrey, I come round to
some of your ideas on these matters. It's this girl of mine, this wee bit
of girl in her little nightshirt with the frill, astonishes me
most:--"thinking of the tops of the mountains at night!" She has
positively done the whole of this work-main part. I smiled when I left
the house, to have to own our little Fredi starting us all on the road.
It seems, Marsett had sworn he would; amorous vow, you know; he never
came nearer to doing it. I hope it's his better mind now; I do hope the
man won't have cause to regret it. He speaks of Nesta--sort of rustic
tone of awe. Mrs. Marsett has impressed him. He expects the title soon,
will leave the army--the poor plucked British army, as you call it!--and
lead the life of a country squire: hunting! Well, it's not only the army,
it's over Great Britain, with this infernal wealth of ours!--and all for
pleasure--eh?--or Paradise lost for a sugar plum! Eh, Dartrey? Upon my
word, it appears to me, Esau's the Englishman, Jacob the German, of these
times. I wonder old Colney hasn't said it. If we're not plucked, as your
regiments are of the officers who have learnt their work, we're
emasculated:--the nation's half made-up of the idle and the servants of
the idle.'

'Ay, and your country squires and your manufacturers contrive to give the
army a body of consumptive louts fit for nothing else than to take the
shilling--and not worth it,' said Dartrey.

'Sounds like old Colney,' Victor remarked to himself. 'But, believe me,
I'm ashamed of the number of servants who wait on me. It wouldn't so much
matter, as Skepsey says, if they were trained to arms and self-respect.
That little fellow Skepsey's closer to the right notion, and the right
practice, too, than any of us. With his Matilda Pridden! He has jumped
out of himself to the proper idea of women, too. And there's a man who
has been up three times before the magistrates, and is considered a
disorderly subject--one among the best of English