The Professor / Учитель. Книга для чтения на английском языке

“Patrician descent be hanged![38] Who doubts that your lordlings may have their ‘distinctive cast of form and features’ as much as we – — shire tradesmen have ours? But which is the best? Not theirs assuredly. As to their women, it is a little different: they cultivate beauty from childhood upwards, and may by care and training attain to a certain degree of excellence in that point, just like the Oriental odalisques. Yet even this superiority is doubtful. Compare the figure in that frame with Mrs. Edward Crimsworth – which is the finer animal?”

I replied quietly: “Compare yourself and Mr. Edward Crimsworth, Mr. Hunsden.”

“Oh, Crimsworth is better filled up than I am, I know besides he has a straight nose, arched eyebrows, and all that; but these advantages – if they are advantages – he did not inherit from his mother, the patrician, but from his father, old Crimsworth, who, MY father says, was as veritable a – — shire blue-dyer as ever put indigo in a vat yet withal the handsomest man in the three Ridings[39]. It is you, William, who are the aristocrat of your family, and you are not as fine a fellow as your plebeian brother by long chalk[40].”

There was something in Mr. Hunsden’s point-blank mode of speech which rather pleased me than otherwise because it set me at my ease. I continued the conversation with a degree of interest.

“How do you happen to know that I am Mr. Crimsworth’s brother? I thought you and everybody else looked upon me only in the light of a poor clerk.”

“Well, and so we do; and what are you but a poor clerk? You do Crimsworth’s work, and he gives you wages – shabby wages they are, too.”

I was silent. Hunsden’s language now bordered on the impertinent, still his manner did not offend me in the least – it only piqued my curiosity; I wanted him to go on, which he did in a little while.

“This world is an absurd one,” said he.

“Why so, Mr. Hunsden?”

“I wonder you should ask: you are yourself a strong proof of the absurdity I allude to.”

I was determined he should explain himself of his own accord[41], without my pressing him so to do – so I resumed my silence.

“Is it your intention to become a tradesman?” he inquired presently.

“It was my serious intention three months ago.”

“Humph! the more fool you – you look like a tradesman! What a practical business-like face you have!”

“My face is as the Lord made it, Mr. Hunsden.”

“The Lord never made either your face or head for X – — . What good can your bumps of ideality, comparison, self-esteem, conscientiousness, do you here? But if you like Bigben Close, stay there; it’s your own affair, not mine.”

“Perhaps I have no choice.”

“Well, I care nought about it – it will make little difference to me what you do or where you go; but I’m cool now – I want to dance again; and I see such a fine girl sitting in the corner of the sofa there by her mamma; see if I don’t get her for a partner in a jiffy[42]! There’s Waddy – Sam Waddy making up to her[43]; won’t I cut him out?”