CHAPTER XXIV.—RELATES HOW CHARLEY LEICESTER WAS FIRST “SPRIGHTED BY A FOOL,” THEN BESET BY AN AMAZON.
“Ar—really—‘pon my word, you seem to have studied the subject deeply, Mr. Leicester,” returned De Grandeville, who was somewhat astonished at the length and volubility of Charley’s notable “Essay on Matrimony,” with which the last chapter was concluded, and too completely blinded by self-importance to perceive that the other was more or less laughing at him. “However, the drift of your argument appears in favour of marriage, and—ar—in fact—ar—I quite think as you do on the matter. Now, in my position, I consider such an arrangement would be most desirable, always supposing one can meet with—ar—a suitable partner.”
“Ay, there’s the rub,” rejoined Leicester, leisurely flipping the ashes from the end of his cigar.
“I consider that I have a right to look—ar—high,” continued De Grandeville, folding his arms with dignity. “Our family dates from the Conquest; our Original ancestor came over as equerry to William of Normandy. I suppose you are aware how the name arose from an incident in that invasion?”
Leicester professed his ignorance of the anecdote, and De Grandeville proceeded: “My ancestor, who, like most of his descendants, was a remarkably long-sighted individual, was riding near the person of his liege lord some few days after the victory of Hastings, when at the extreme verge of the horizon he descried the city of Canterbury, and in the excitement of the moment he exclaimed, pointing with his mailed hand, ‘Voila! une grande ville.’ William overheard the remark, and fixing his piercing glance upon him, observed sarcastically, ‘Ha! sayest thou so? he who hath been the first to discern yon great city should be the first to enter it.’ ‘By the grace of God, and with your permission, Sire, so I will,’ exclaimed my ancestor. William nodded assent, my ancestor clapped spurs to his horse, and never drew bridle till the standard of Normandy floated on the highest tower of Canterbury. For this gallant exploit he was made governor of the city, and received the name and titles of De Grandeville. It’s—ar—a creditable story.”
“Extremely,” returned Leicester, yawning. “I’ve a vague idea the man we all came from was hanged for horse-stealing.”
“Ar—yes—very good,” rejoined De Grandeville, recognising an excellent jest in his companion’s assertion; “but, as I was about to observe, in my position a man owes as it were a duty to his family; he ought not to marry a nobody.”
“Decidedly, such a connection should be avoided,” returned Charley sententiously, presenting the hot end of his cigar to an inquisitive snail which appeared inclined to join the party.