That sounded heart-breaking, but I happened to know that Mr. PIDGIN's
"malarial fever" was nothing but _delirium tremens_, brought on by
a prolonged course of drunkenness. Hence his shaky handwriting, &c.
BLISSOP had warned me against him. Wrote back that, in view of the
Corrupt Practices Act, it was impossible for me to relieve individual
cases.
Called on the PENFOLDS this afternoon. They are up from Billsbury
for their stay in London, and have got a house in Eaton Square. To
my surprise found Mrs. BELLAMY and MARY there. That was awkward,
especially as MARY looked at me, as I thought, very meaningly, and
asked me if I didn't think SOPHY PENFOLD sweetly pretty. I muttered
something about preferring a darker type of beauty (MARY's hair is as
black as my hat), to which MARY replied that perhaps, after all, that
kind of pink and white beauty with hair like tow _was_ rather insipid.
The BELLAMYS it seems met the PENFOLDS at a dinner last week, and
the girls struck up a friendship, this call being the result. Young
PENFOLD, whom I had never seen before, was there and was infernally
attentive to MARY. He's in the 24th Lancers, and looks like a barber's
block. Mrs. BELLAMY said to me, "I've been hearing so much about you
from dear Lady PENFOLD. They all have the highest opinion of you. In
fact, Lady PENFOLD said she felt quite like a mother to you. And how
kind of you to buy so many things from Miss PENFOLD at the Bazaar.
What are my father's noble lines?
"True kindness is no blustering rogue that struts
With empty mouthings on the stage of life,
But, like a tender, timid plant that shuts
At every touch, it shrinks from noisy strife."
(And so forth, I've forgotten the rest.) "I love kindness," continued
Mrs. BELLAMY, "in young men. By the way, will you excuse a short
invitation, and dine with us the day after to-morrow? All the PENFOLDS
are coming." I said yes, and made up my mind that I must settle
matters with MARY one way or another before complications got worse,
or young PENFOLD made any more progress. I felt all the afternoon as
if I'd committed a crime.
_Friday, June 13th_.--Three cheers. I've done it. Called on the
BELLAMYS to-day. Found MARY alone. She was very sarcastic, but at last
I could stand it no longer, and told her I had never loved and never
should love anybody but her. Then she burst into tears, and I--anyhow
she's promised to marry me. Have to interview Mrs. BELLAMY to-morrow.
No time to do it to-day, as she was out till late. Chuck her up!
Mother received the news very well. "Accepted you, my darling boy?"
she said. "Of course she did. How _could_ she do otherwise? Bring
her to see me soon. She shall, of course, have all the family jewels
immediately, and the dining-room furniture too. There'll be a few
other trifles too, I daresay, that you'll be glad of." Dear Mother,
she's the kindest soul in the world. _Carlo_ has been informed of the
news, and is said to have manifested an extraordinarily intelligent
appreciation of it, by insisting on a second helping for supper. He's
a remarkable dog.
* * * * *
"SEMPER EADEM."
["The position of the Jews in Russia becomes daily more
terrible. An order that they are henceforth to work upon their
Sabbath and holy festivals is about to be issued and put in
force."--_Standard_.--"A most pertinent illustration of the
falsity of repeated rumours and reports representing in some
cases a strong disposition, and in others an actual decision,
on the part of the CZAR and the Russian Government, to
alleviate the miseries of the Jews."--_Times_.]
Who said the scourge should slacken? Who foretold
The goad should cease, the shackle loose its hold?
The wish, perchance, fathered once more the thought,
Though long experience against it fought.
Not so! The CZAR's in Muscovy, and all
Is well with--Tyranny! The harried thrall
Shall still be harried, though, a little while,
The Autocrat on the Republic smile;
The Jew shall be robbed, banished, outraged still,
Although the tyrant, with a shuddering thrill
Diplomacy scarce hides, for some brief days
Must listen to the hated "_Marseillaise_!"
Fear not, Fanatic! Despot do not doubt!
The rule of Orthodoxy and the Knout
Is not yet over wholly. France may woo,
Columbia plead, the Jew is still the Jew;
And, spite of weak humanitarian fuss,
CÆSAR be praised, the Russ is still the Russ!
* * * * *
A GROUSE OUTRAGE.--Shooting them before the Twelfth.
* * * * *
"WON'T WORK!"