The Newcomes: Memoirs of a Most Respectable Family by William Makepeace Thackeray

Author:William Makepeace Thackeray [Thackeray, William Makepeace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Families -- England -- Fiction, Domestic fiction
Published: 2005-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

"Her heart it is another's, she—never—can—be—mine;"

and to laugh at the end of the song. "Well, well," says he; "it is a very kind note, a very proper little note; the expression elegant, J. J., the sentiment is most correct. All the little t's most properly crossed, and all the little i's have dots over their little heads. It's a sort of a prize note, don't you see; and one such, as in the old spelling-book story, the good boy received a plum-cake for writing. Perhaps you weren't educated on the old spelling-book, J. J.? My good old father taught me to read out of his—I say, I think it was a shame to keep the old boy waiting whilst I have been giving an audience to this young lady. Dear old father!" and he apostrophised the letter. "I beg your pardon, sir; Miss Newcome requested five minutes' conversation, and I was obliged, from politeness, you know, to receive. There's nothing between us; nothing but what's most correct, upon my honour and conscience." And he kissed his father's letter, and calling out again, "Dear old father!" proceeded to read as follows:—

"'Your letters, my dearest Clive, have been the greatest comfort to me. I seem to hear you as I read them. I can't but think that this, the modern and natural style, is a great progress upon the old-fashioned manner of my day, when we used to begin to our fathers, 'Honoured Father,' or even 'Honoured Sir' some precisians used to write still from Mr. Lord's Academy, at Tooting, where I went before Grey Friars—though I suspect parents were no more honoured in those days than nowadays. I know one who had rather be trusted than honoured; and you may call me what you please, so as you do that.

"'It is not only to me your letters give pleasure. Last week I took yours from Baden Baden, No. 3, September 15, into Calcutta, and could not help showing it at Government House, where I dined. Your sketch of the old Russian Princess and her little boy, gambling, was capital. Colonel Buckmaster, Lord Bagwig's private secretary, knew her, and says it is to a T. And I read out to some of my young fellows what you said about play, and how you had given it over. I very much fear some of the young rogues are at dice and brandy-pawnee before tiffin. What you say of young Ridley, I take cum grano. His sketches I thought very agreeable; but to compare them to a certain gentleman's——Never mind, I shall not try to make him think too well of himself. I kissed dear Ethel's hand in your letter. I write her a long letter by this mail.

"'If Paul de Florac in any way resembles his mother, between you and him there ought to be a very warm regard. I knew her when I was a boy, long before you were born or thought of; and in wandering forty years through the world since, I have seen no woman in my eyes so good or so beautiful.

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