For her
ladyship had proved acutely nipping. His little customary phrases, to
which Lady Camper objected, he could see no harm in whatever. Conversing
with her in the privacy of domestic life would never be the flowing
business that it is for other men. It would demand perpetual vigilance,
hop, skip, jump, flounderings, and apologies.
This was not a pleasing prospect.
On the other hand, she was the niece of an earl. She was wealthy. She
might be an excellent friend to Elizabeth; and she could be, when she
liked, both commandingly and bewitchingly ladylike.
Good! But he was a General Officer of not more than fifty-five, in his
full vigour, and she a woman of seventy!
The prospect was bleak. It resembled an outlook on the steppes. In point
of the discipline he was to expect, he might be compared to a raw
recruit, and in his own home!
However, she was a woman of mind. One would be proud of her.
But did he know the worst of her? A dreadful presentiment, that he did
not know the worst of her, rolled an ocean of gloom upon General Ople,
striking out one solitary thought in the obscurity, namely, that he was
about to receive punishment for retiring from active service to a life of
ease at a comparatively early age, when still in marching trim.
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