Our friends and
our enemies draw us,--and I often think both pictures are like,"
continued the easy world-philosopher. "You hate Barnes, and cannot see
any good in him. He sees none in you. There have been tremendous shindies
in Park Lane a propos of your worship, and of a subject which I don't
care to mention," said Lord Kew, with some dignity; "and what is the
upshot of all this malevolence? I like you; I like your father, I think
he is a noble old boy; there are those who represented him as a sordid
schemer. Give Mr. Barnes the benefit of common charity at any rate; and
let others like him, if you do not.
"And as for this romance of love," the young nobleman went on, kindling
as he spoke, and forgetting the slang and colloquialisms with which we
garnish all our conversation--"this fine picture of Jenny and Jessamy
falling in love at first sight, billing and cooing in an arbour, and
retiring to a cottage afterwards to go on cooing and billing--Psha! what
folly is this! It is good for romances, and for misses to sigh about; but
any man who walks through the world with his eyes open, knows how
senseless is all this rubbish.
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