[My Novel<br> Complete by Edward Bulwer-Lytton]@TWC D-Link book
My Novel
Complete

CHAPTER XII
5/5

"Good-night, Mrs.Fairfield.I shall come and talk to you to-morrow, Lenny; by that time you will think better of it." The parson then conducted his wife home, and went up to the Hall to report Lenny's safe return; for the squire was very uneasy about him, and had even in person shared the search.

As soon as he heard Lenny was safe--"Well," said the squire, "let him go the first thing in the morning to Rood Hall, to ask Master Leslie's pardon, and all will be right and smooth again." "A young villain!" cried Frank, with his cheeks the colour of scarlet; "to strike a gentleman and an Etonian, who had just been to call on me! But I wonder Randal let him off so well,--any other boy in the sixth form would have killed him!" "Frank," said the parson, sternly, "if we all had our deserts, what should be done to him who not only lets the sun go down on his own wrath, but strives with uncharitable breath to fan the dying embers of another's ?" The clergyman here turned away from Frank, who bit his lip, and seemed abashed, while even his mother said not a word in his exculpation; for when the parson did reprove in that stern tone, the majesty of the Hall stood awed before the rebuke of the Church.

Catching Riccabocca's inquisitive eye, Mr.Dale drew aside the philosopher, and whispered to him his fears that it would be a very hard matter to induce Lenny to beg Randal Leslie's pardon, and that the proud stomach of the pattern-boy would not digest the stocks with as much ease as a long regimen of philosophy had enabled the sage to do.

This conference Miss Jemima soon interrupted by a direct appeal to the doctor respecting the number of years (even without any previous and more violent incident) that the world could possibly withstand its own wear and tear.
"Ma'am," said the doctor, reluctantly summoned away to look at a passage in some prophetic periodical upon that interesting subject,--"ma'am, it is very hard that you should make one remember the end of the world, since, in conversing with you, one's natural temptation is to forget its existence." Miss Jemima's cheeks were suffused with a deeper scarlet than Frank's had been a few minutes before.

Certainly that deceitful, heartless compliment justified all her contempt for the male sex; and yet--such is human blindness--it went far to redeem all mankind in her credulous and too confiding soul.
"He is about to propose," sighed Miss Jemima.
"Giacomo," said Riccabocca, as he drew on his nightcap, and stepped majestically into the four-posted bed, "I think we shall get that boy for the garden now!" Thus each spurred his hobby, or drove her car, round the Hazeldean whirligig..


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