Was the young lady over fastidious, or were none among the presented worthy, or had that which was to touch her heart not yet appeared?
Mr. Gryll was the godfather of his niece, and to please him, she had been called Morgana. He had had some thoughts of calling her Circe, but acquiesced in the name of a sister enchantress, who had worked out her own idea of a beautiful garden, and exercised similar power over the minds and forms of men.
CHAPTER III
THE DUKE'S FOLLY
Moisten your lungs with wine. The dog-star's sway
Returns, and all things thirst beneath his ray.
Alcaeus
Falernum. Opimianum. Annorum. Centum.
Heu! Heu! inquit Trimalchio, ergo diutius vivit vinum quam
homuncio! Quare reyye reviovas faciamus. Vita vinum est.—
Petronius Arbiter.
Falernian Opimian Wine an hundred years old.
Alas! Alas! exclaimed Trimalchio. This wine lives longer
than man! Wherefore let us sing, 'moisten your lungs.'
Wine is life.
Wordsworth's question, in his Poets Epitaph,
Art thou a man of purple cheer,
A rosy man, right plump to see?
might have been answered in the affirmative by the Reverend Doctor Opimian. The worthy divine dwelt in an agreeably situated vicarage, on the outskirts of the New Forest. A good living, a comfortable patrimony, a moderate dowry with his wife, placed him sufficiently above the cares of the world to enable him to gratify all his tastes without minute calculations of cost. His tastes, in fact, were four: a good library, a good dinner, a pleasant garden, and rural walks. He was an athlete in pedestrianism. He took no pleasure in riding, either on horseback or in a carriage; but he kept a brougham for the service of Mrs. Opimian, and for his own occasional use in dining out.