I suppose he is the only man in
two hemispheres who finds the opposite condition a matter of regret.
FLOWER O' THE QUINCE
I.
Theodore Vellan had been out of England for more than thirty years.
Thirty odd years ago the set he lived in had been startled and
mystified by his sudden flight and disappearance. At that time his
position here had seemed a singularly pleasant one. He was young--he
was seven- or eight-and-twenty; he was fairly well off--he had
something like three thousand a year, indeed; he belonged to an
excellent family, the Shropshire Vellans, of whom the titled head,
Lord Vellan of Norshingfield, was his uncle; he was good-looking,
amiable, amusing, popular; and he had just won a seat in the House of
Commons (as junior member for Sheffingham), where, since he was
believed to be ambitious as well as clever, it was generally expected
that he would go far.
Then, quite suddenly, he had applied for the Chiltern Hundreds, and
left England. His motives for this unlikely course he explained to no
one. To a few intimate friends he wrote brief letters of farewell. 'I
am off for a journey round the world. I shall be gone an indefinite
time.' The indefinite time ended by defining itself as upwards of
thirty years, for the first twenty of which only his solicitor and his
bankers could have given you his address, and they wouldn't.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108