meal times. A careless remark
(not intentionally offensive) with reference to Mr. Cusse had so
affronted Charlotte that she never spoke to him save in reply to a
question. Godwin regretted the pain he had given, but could not
bring himself to express this feeling, for a discussion would
inevitably have disclosed all his mind concerning the draper's
assistant. Oliver seemed to have forgiven his brother's reproaches,
but no longer behaved with freedom when Godwin was present. For all
this, the elder's irritation was often aroused by things he saw and
heard; and at length—on a memorable Saturday afternoon—debate
revived between them. Oliver, as his custom was, had attired
himself sprucely for a visit to acquaintances, and a silk hat of
the very newest fashion lay together with his gloves upon the
table.
'What is this thing?' inquired Godwin, with ominous calm, as he
pointed to the piece of head-gear.
'A hat, I suppose,' replied his brother.
'You mean to say you are going to wear that in the street?'
'And why not?'
Oliver, not venturing to raise his eyes, stared at the
table-cloth indignantly.
'Can't you feel,' burst from the other, 'that it's a disgrace to
buy and wear such a thing?'
'Disgrace! what's the matter with the hat? It's the fashionable
shape.'
Godwin mastered his wrath, and turned contemptuously away. But
Oliver had been touched in a sensitive place; he was eager to
defend himself.
'I can't see what you're finding fault with,' he exclaimed.
'Everybody wears this shape.'
'And isn't that quite sufficient reason why anyone who respects
himself should choose something as different as possible?
Everybody! That is to say, all the fools in the kingdom. It's bad
enough to follow when you can't help it, but to imitate asses
gratuitously is the lowest depth of degradation. Don't you know
that that is the meaning of vulgarity? How you can offer such an
excuse passes my comprehension. Have you no self? Are you made,
like this hat, on a pattern with a hundred thousand others?'
'You and I are different,' said Oliver, impatiently. 'I am
content to be like other people.'
'And I would poison myself with vermin-killer if I felt any risk
of such contentment! Like other people? Heaven forbid and forfend!
Like other people? Oh, what a noble ambition!'
The loud passionate voice summoned Mrs. Peak from an adjacent
room.
'Godwin! Godwin!' she remonstrated. 'Whatever is it? Why should
you put yourself out so?'
She was a short and slender woman, with an air of gentility,
independent of her badly made and long worn widow's dress.
Self-possession marked her manner, and the even tones in which she
spoke gave indication of a mild, perhaps an unemotional,
temperament.
Oliver began to represent his grievance.
'What harm is there, if I choose to wear a hat that's in
fashion? I pay for it out of my own'—
But he was interrupted by a loud visitor's knock at the front
door, distant only a few paces. Mrs. Peak turned with a startled
look. Godwin, dreading contact with friends of the family, strode
upstairs. When the door was opened, there appeared the smiling
countenance of Andrew Peak; he wore the costume of a traveller, and
by his side stood a boy of ten, too plainly his son.
'Well, Grace!' was his familiar greeting, as the widow drew
back. 'I told you you'd 'ev the pleasure of seem' me again before
so very long. Godwin at 'ome with you, I s'pose? Thet you, Noll?
'Ow do, my bo-oy? 'Ere's yer cousin Jowey. Shike 'ands, Jowey
bo-oy! Sorry I couldn't bring my old lady over this time, Grace;
she sends her respects, as usual. 'Ow's Charlotte? Bloomin', I
'ope?'
He had made his way into the front parlour, dragging the
youngster after him. Having deposited his handbag and umbrella on
the sofa, he seated himself in the easy-chair, and began to blow
his nose with vigour.
'Set down, Jowey; set down, bo-oy! Down't be afride of your
awnt.'
'Oi ain't afride!' cried the youth, in a tone which supported
his assertion.
Mrs. Peak trembled
(not intentionally offensive) with reference to Mr. Cusse had so
affronted Charlotte that she never spoke to him save in reply to a
question. Godwin regretted the pain he had given, but could not
bring himself to express this feeling, for a discussion would
inevitably have disclosed all his mind concerning the draper's
assistant. Oliver seemed to have forgiven his brother's reproaches,
but no longer behaved with freedom when Godwin was present. For all
this, the elder's irritation was often aroused by things he saw and
heard; and at length—on a memorable Saturday afternoon—debate
revived between them. Oliver, as his custom was, had attired
himself sprucely for a visit to acquaintances, and a silk hat of
the very newest fashion lay together with his gloves upon the
table.
'What is this thing?' inquired Godwin, with ominous calm, as he
pointed to the piece of head-gear.
'A hat, I suppose,' replied his brother.
'You mean to say you are going to wear that in the street?'
'And why not?'
Oliver, not venturing to raise his eyes, stared at the
table-cloth indignantly.
'Can't you feel,' burst from the other, 'that it's a disgrace to
buy and wear such a thing?'
'Disgrace! what's the matter with the hat? It's the fashionable
shape.'
Godwin mastered his wrath, and turned contemptuously away. But
Oliver had been touched in a sensitive place; he was eager to
defend himself.
'I can't see what you're finding fault with,' he exclaimed.
'Everybody wears this shape.'
'And isn't that quite sufficient reason why anyone who respects
himself should choose something as different as possible?
Everybody! That is to say, all the fools in the kingdom. It's bad
enough to follow when you can't help it, but to imitate asses
gratuitously is the lowest depth of degradation. Don't you know
that that is the meaning of vulgarity? How you can offer such an
excuse passes my comprehension. Have you no self? Are you made,
like this hat, on a pattern with a hundred thousand others?'
'You and I are different,' said Oliver, impatiently. 'I am
content to be like other people.'
'And I would poison myself with vermin-killer if I felt any risk
of such contentment! Like other people? Heaven forbid and forfend!
Like other people? Oh, what a noble ambition!'
The loud passionate voice summoned Mrs. Peak from an adjacent
room.
'Godwin! Godwin!' she remonstrated. 'Whatever is it? Why should
you put yourself out so?'
She was a short and slender woman, with an air of gentility,
independent of her badly made and long worn widow's dress.
Self-possession marked her manner, and the even tones in which she
spoke gave indication of a mild, perhaps an unemotional,
temperament.
Oliver began to represent his grievance.
'What harm is there, if I choose to wear a hat that's in
fashion? I pay for it out of my own'—
But he was interrupted by a loud visitor's knock at the front
door, distant only a few paces. Mrs. Peak turned with a startled
look. Godwin, dreading contact with friends of the family, strode
upstairs. When the door was opened, there appeared the smiling
countenance of Andrew Peak; he wore the costume of a traveller, and
by his side stood a boy of ten, too plainly his son.
'Well, Grace!' was his familiar greeting, as the widow drew
back. 'I told you you'd 'ev the pleasure of seem' me again before
so very long. Godwin at 'ome with you, I s'pose? Thet you, Noll?
'Ow do, my bo-oy? 'Ere's yer cousin Jowey. Shike 'ands, Jowey
bo-oy! Sorry I couldn't bring my old lady over this time, Grace;
she sends her respects, as usual. 'Ow's Charlotte? Bloomin', I
'ope?'
He had made his way into the front parlour, dragging the
youngster after him. Having deposited his handbag and umbrella on
the sofa, he seated himself in the easy-chair, and began to blow
his nose with vigour.
'Set down, Jowey; set down, bo-oy! Down't be afride of your
awnt.'
'Oi ain't afride!' cried the youth, in a tone which supported
his assertion.
Mrs. Peak trembled
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