Hard Cash | Page 7

boated and cricketed, to avoid the fatigue of lounging; not a
boatman or cricketer who strayed into Aristotle in the intervals of
Perspiration.
His public running since he left Harrow was as follows: the prize poem
in his fourth term; the sculls in his sixth; the Ireland scholarship in his
eighth (he pulled second for it the year before); Stroke of the Exeter in
his tenth; and reckoned sure of a first class to consummate his twofold
career.
To this young Apollo, crowned with variegated laurel, Edward looked
up from a distance. The brilliant creature never bestowed a word on
him by land; and by water only such observations as the following:
"Time, Six!" "Well pulled, Six!" "Very well pulled, Six!" Except,
by-the-bye, one race; when he swore at him like a trooper for not being
quicker at starting. The excitement of nearly being bumped by
Brasenose in the first hundred yards was an excuse. However, Hardie

apologised as they were dressing in the barge after the race; but the
apology was so stiff, it did not pave the way to an acquaintance.
Young Hardie, rising twenty-one, thought nothing human worthy of
reverence, but Intellect. Invited to dinner, on the same day, with the
Emperor of Russia, and with Voltaire, and with meek St. John, he
would certainly have told the coachman to put him down at Voltaire.
His quick eye detected Edward's character; but was not attracted by it:
says he to one of his adherents, "What a good-natured spoon that Dodd
is; Phoebus, what a name!" Edward, on the other hand, praised this
brilliant in all his letters, and recorded his triumphs and such of his
witty sayings as leaked through his own set, to reinvigorate mankind.
This roused Julia's ire. It smouldered through three letters; but burst out
when there was no letter; but Mrs. Dodd, meaning, Heaven knows, no
harm, happened to say meekly, a propos of Edward, "You know, love,
we cannot all be young Hardies." "No, and thank Heaven," said Julia
defiantly. "Yes, mamma," she continued, in answer to Mrs. Dodd's
eyebrow, which had curved; "your mild glance reads my soul; I detest
that boy." Mrs. Dodd smiled: "Are you sure you know what the word
'detest' means? And what has young Mr. Hardie done, that you should
bestow so violent a sentiment on him?"
"Mamma, I am Edward's sister," was the tragic reply; then, kicking off
the buskin pretty nimbly, "There! he beats our boy at everything, and
ours sits quietly down and admires him for it: oh! how can a man let
anybody or anything beat him! I wouldn't; without a desperate
struggle." She clenched her white teeth and imagined the struggle. To
be sure, she owned she had never seen this Mr. Hardie; but after all it
was only Jane Hardie's brother, as Edward was hers; "And would I sit
down and let Jane beat me at Things? Never! never! never! I couldn't."
"Your friend to the death, dear; was not that your expression?"
"Oh, that was a slip of the tongue, dear mamma; I was off my guard. I
generally am, by the way. But now I am on it, and propose an
amendment. Now I second it. Now I carry it."
"And now let me hear it."
"She is my friend till death--or Eclipse; and that means until she
eclipses me, of course." But she added softly, and with sudden gravity:
"Ah! Jane Hardie has a fault which will always prevent her from
eclipsing your humble servant in this wicked world."

"What is that?"
"She is too good. Much."
"Par exemple?"
"Too religious."
"Oh, that is another matter."
"For shame, mamma! I am glad to hear it: for I scorn a life of frivolity;
but then, again, I should not like to give up everything, you know." Mrs.
Dodd looked a little staggered, too, at so vast a scheme of capitulation
But "everything" was soon explained to mean balls, concerts,
dinner-parties in general, tea-parties without exposition of Scripture,
races, and operas, cards, charades, and whatever else amuses society
without perceptibly sanctifying it. All these, by Julia's account, Miss
Hardie had renounced, and was now denouncing (with the young the
latter verb treads on the very heels of the former). "And, you know, she
is a district visitor."
This climax delivered, Julia stopped short, and awaited the result.
Mrs. Dodd heard it all with quiet disapproval and cool incredulity. She
had seen so many young ladies healed of many young enthusiasms by a
wedding ring. But, while she was searching diligently in her mine of
ladylike English--mine with plenty of water in it, begging her
pardon--for expressions to convey inoffensively, and roundabout, her
conviction that Miss Hardie was a little, furious simpleton, the post
came and swept the subject away in a