ee and the
grasshopper that becomes a burden and the desire that fails?
TARLETON. Does it? by George! No, sir: it spiritualizes. As to
your grasshopper, I can carry an elephant.
MRS TARLETON. You do say such things, Bunny! What does he mean by
the almond tree?
TARLETON. He means my white hairs: the repulsive mask. That, my
boy, is another invention of Natural Selection to disgust young women
with me, and give the lads a turn.
MRS TARLETON. John: I wont have it. Thats a forbidden subject.
TARLETON. They talk of the wickedness and vanity of women painting
their faces and wearing auburn wigs at fifty. But why shouldnt they?
Why should a woman allow Nature to put a false mask of age on her when
she knows that shes as young as ever? Why should she look in the
glass and see a wrinkled lie when a touch of fine art will shew her a
glorious truth? The wrinkles are a dodge to repel young men. Suppose
she doesnt want to repel young men! Suppose she likes them!
MRS TARLETON. Bunny: take Hypatia out into the grounds for a walk:
theres a good boy. John has got one of his naughty fits this evening.
HYPATIA. Oh, never mind me. I'm used to him.
BENTLEY. I'm not. I never heard such conversation: I cant believe
my ears. And mind you, this is the man who objected to my marrying
his daughter on the ground that a marriage between a member of the
great and good middle class with one of the vicious and corrupt
aristocracy would be a misalliance. A misalliance, if you please!
This is the man Ive adopted as a father!
TARLETON. Eh! Whats that? Adopted me as a father, have you?
BENTLEY. Yes. Thats an idea of mine. I knew a chap named Joey
Percival at Oxford (you know I was two months at Balliol before I was
sent down for telling the old woman who was head of that silly college
what I jolly well thought of him. He would have been glad to have me
back, too, at the end of six months; but I wouldnt go: I just let him
want; and serve him right!) Well, Joey was a most awfully clever
fellow, and so nice! I asked him what made such a difference between
him and all the other pups--they were pups, if you like. He told me
it was very simple: they had only one father apiece; and he had
three.
MRS TARLETON. Dont talk nonsense, child. How could that be?
BENTLEY. Oh, very simple. His father--
TARLETON. Which father?
BENTLEY. The first one: the regulation natural chap. He kept a tame
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