Meadows was in truth becoming a little tired of her dictation, although
it was only ten days since he had arrived under her roof. There was a
large amount of lethargy combined with his ability; and he hated to be
obliged to live at any pace but his own. But Rachel Dunstable was an
imperious friend, never tired herself, apparently, either in mind or
body; and those who could not walk, eat, and talk to please her were apt
to know it. Her opinions too, both political and literary, were in some
directions extremely violent; and though, in general, argument and
contradiction gave her pleasure, she had her days and moods, and Meadows
had already suffered occasional sets-down, of a kind to which he was not
accustomed.
But if he was--just a little--out of love with his new friend, in all
other respects he was enjoying himself enormously. The long days on the
moors, the luxurious life indoors, the changing and generally agreeable
company, all the thousand easements and pleasures that wealth brings
with it, the skilled service, the motors, the costly cigars, the
wines--there was a Sybarite in Meadows which revelled in them all.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124