d and I can not. Let me assure you, twenty minutes of an ordeal like
that,--one posture, mind you, no raising of your eyelids, taking your
breath mechanically, and your heart beating--jumping like an enraged
balletdancer boxed in your bosom--a literal description, upon my honour;
and not only jumping, jumping every now and then, I may say, with a toe
in your throat: I was half-choked:--well, I say, twenty minutes,
twenty-seven minutes and a half of that, getting on, in fact, to
half-an-hour, it is superhuman!--by heavens, it is heroical!

And observe my reward: I have a son--my only one. I have been divided
from him for years; I am establishing his fortune; I know he is provided
with comforts: Richie, you remember the woman Waddy? A faithful soul! She
obtained my consent at last--previously I had objections; in fact, your
address was withheld from the woman--to call at your school. She saw
Rippenger, a girl of considerable attractions. She heard you were located
at Riversley: I say, I know the boy is comfortably provided for; but we
have been separated since he was a little creature with curls on his
forehead, scarce breeched.'

I protested:

'Papa, I have been in jacket and trousers I don't know how long.'

'Let me pursue,' said my father. 'And to show you, Richie, it is a golden
age ever when you and I are together, and ever shall be till we lose our
manly spirit, and we cling to that,--till we lose our princely spirit,
which we never will abandon--perish rather!--I drink to you, and
challenge you; and, mind you, old Hock wine has charms. If Burgundy is
the emperor of wines, Hock is the empress. For youngsters, perhaps, I
should except the Hock that gets what they would fancy a trifle pique,
turned with age, so as to lose in their opinion its empress flavour.'

Temple said modestly: 'I should call that the margravine of wines.'

My father beamed on him with great approving splendour. 'Join us, Mr.
Temple; you are a man of wit, and may possibly find this specimen worthy
of you. This wine has a history. You are drinking wine with blood in it.
Well, I was saying, the darling of my heart has been torn from me; I am
in a foreign land; foreign, that is, by birth, and on the whole foreign.
Yes!--I am the cynosure of eyes; I am in a singular posture, a singular
situation; I hear a cry in the tongue of my native land, and what I
presume is my boy's name: I look, I behold him, I follow a parent's
impulse. On my soul! none