The things we do!

"I'd rather Clive were
dead than have him such a heartless woriding as this." And yet the young
man was not ungenerous, not untruth-telling, not unserviceable. He
thought his life was good enough. It was as good as that of other folks
he lived with. You don't suppose he had any misgivings, provided he was
in the City early enough in the morning; or slept badly, unless he
indulged too freely over-night; or twinges of conscience that his life
was misspent? He thought his life a most lucky and reputable one. He had
a share in a good business, and felt that he could increase it. Some day
he would marry a good match, with a good fortune; meanwhile he could take
his pleasure decorously, and sow his wild oats as some of the young
Londoners sow them, not broadcast after the fashion of careless
scatter-brained youth, but trimly and neatly, in quiet places, where the
crop can come up unobserved, and be taken in without bustle or scandal.
Barnes Newcome never missed going to church, or dressing for dinner.


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