This surely was most kind; a
kindness which I should never have dreamed of expecting from a shy,
retiring man like Mr. ------.
So he and his friend were ushered into the dining-room, and introduced.
Mr. ------ is a young-looking man, dark, with a mustache, rather small,
and though he has the manners of a man who has seen the world, it
evidently requires an effort in him to speak to anybody; and I could see
his whole person slightly writhing itself, as it were, while he addressed
me. This is strange in a man of his public position, member for the
county, necessarily mixed up with life in many forms, the possessor of
sixteen thousand pounds a year, and the representative of an ancient
name. Nevertheless, I liked him, and felt as if I could become
intimately acquainted with him, if circumstances were favorable; but, at
a brief interview like this, it was hopeless to break through two great
reserves; so I talked more with his companion--a pleasant young man,
fresh from college, I should imagine--than with Mr. ------ himself.
The three books were really of very great interest. One was an octavo
volume of manuscript in John Evelyn's own hand, the beginning of his
published diary, written as distinctly as print, in a small, clear
character. It can be read just as easily as any printed book. Another
was a Church of England prayer-book, which King Charles used on the
scaffold, and which was stained with his sacred blood, and underneath are
two or three lines in John Evelyn's hand, certifying this to be the very
book.
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