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The Caxtons: A Family Picture, a novel by Edward Bulwer-Lytton |
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Part 11 - Chapter 3 |
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_ PART XI CHAPTER III How was it possible for one poor tongue, so reviled and persecuted, so humbled, insulted, and triumphed over, to resist three tongues in league against it? Finally, my father yielded, and Squills; in high spirits, declared that he would go to supper with me, to see that I ate nothing that would tend to discredit his reliance on my system. Leaving my mother still with her Austin, the good surgeon then took my arm, and as soon as we were in the next room, shut the door carefully, wiped his forehead, and said: "I think we have saved him!" "Would it really, then, have injured my father so much?" "So much? Why, you foolish young man, don't you see that with his ignorance of business where he himself is concerned,--though for any other one's business, neither Rollick nor Cool has a better judgment,--and with his d--d Quixotic spirit of honor worked up into a state of excitement, he would have rushed to Mr. Tibbets and exclaimed, 'How much do we owe you? There it is,' settled in the same way with these printers, and come back without a sixpence; whereas you and I can look coolly about us and reduce the inflammation to the minimum!" "I see, and thank you heartily, Squills." "Besides," said the surgeon, with more feeling, "your father has really been making a noble effort over himself. He suffers more than you would think,--not for himself (for I do believe that if he were alone in the world, he would be quite contented if he could save fifty pounds a-year and his books), but for your mother and yourself; and a fresh access of emotional excitement, all the nervous anxiety of a journey to London on such a business, might have ended in a paralytic or epileptic affection. Now we have him here snug; and the worst news we can give him will be better than what he will make up his mind for. But you don't eat." "Eat! How can I? My poor father!" "The effect of grief upon the gastric juices, through the nervous system, is very remarkable," said Mr. Squills, philosophically, and helping himself to a broiled bone; "it increases the thirst, while it takes away hunger. No--don't touch port!--heating! Sherry and water." _ |
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