CHAPTER I
RUDOLPH OF TRULYRURALANIA
When I state that I was own brother to Lord Burleydon, had an income
of two thousand a year, could speak all the polite languages fluently, was a
powerful swordsman, a good shot, and could ride anything from an
elephant to a clotheshorse, I really think I have said enough to satisfy any
feminine novel-reader of Bayswater or South Kensington that I was a hero.
My brother\'s wife, however, did not seem to incline to this belief.
"A more conceited, self-satisfied little cad I never met than you," she
said. "Why don\'t you try to do something instead of sneering at others
who do? You never take anything seriously--except yourself, which isn\'t
worth it. You are proud of your red hair and peaked nose just because
you fondly believe that you got them from the Prince of Trulyruralania,
and are willing to think evil of your ancestress to satisfy your snobbish
little soul. Let me tell you, sir, that there was no more truth about that
than there was in that silly talk of her partiality for her husband\'s redhaired
gamekeeper in Scotland. Ah! that makes you start--don\'t it? But
I have always observed that a mule is apt to remember only the horse side
of his ancestry!"
Whenever my pretty sister-in-law talks in this way I always try to
forget that she came of a family far inferior to our own, the Razorbills.
Indeed, her people--of the Nonconformist stock--really had nothing but
wealth and rectitude, and I think my brother Bob, in his genuine love for
her, was willing to overlook the latter for the sake of the former.
My pretty sister-in-law\'s interest in my affairs always made me believe
that she secretly worshiped me--although it was a fact, as will be seen in
the progress of this story, that most women blushed on my addressing
them. I used to say it "was the reflection of my red hair on a transparent
complexion," which was rather neat-- wasn\'t it? And subtle? But then,
I was always saying such subtle things.