Transcribed from the 1890 Longmans, Green, and Co. edition byDavid Price,
by
EDNA LYALL
authorof ‘donovan’‘we two’ ‘in the golden days’
‘knight errant’ etc.
Trust not to eachaccusing tongue,
As most week persons do;
But still believe that story false
Which ought not to be trueSheridan
NEW EDITION
(thirty-ninth to forty-firstthousand)
london
longmans, green, and co.
and new york: 15 east 16th street
1890
All rights reserved
DEDICATED
TO ALL
WHO IT MAY CONCERN
At last the tea came up, and so
With that our tongues began to go.
Now in that house you’re sure of knowing
The smallest scrap of news that’s going.
We find it there the wisest way
To take some care of what we say.Recreation. Jane Taylor.
I was born on the 2nd September, 1886, in a small, dull,country town. When I say the town was dull, I mean, ofcourse, that the inhabitants were unenterprising, for in itselfMuddleton was a picturesque place, and though it laboured underthe usual disadvantage of a dearth of bachelors and a superfluityof spinsters, it might have been pleasant enough had it not beena favourite resort for my kith and kin.
My father has long enjoyed a world-wide notoriety; he is not,however, as a rule named in good society, though he habituallyfrequents it; and as I am led to believe that my autobiographywill possibly be circulated by Mr. Mudie, and will lie about ondrawing-room tables, I will merely mention that a mostrepresentation of my progenitor, under his nom dethéatre, Mephistopheles, may be seen now in London,and I should recommend all who wish to understand his characterto go to the Lyceum, though, between ourselves, he stronglydisapproves of the whole performance.
I was introduced into the world by an old lady named Mrs.O’Reilly. She was a very pleasant old lady, the wifeof a General, and one of those sociable, friendly, talkativepeople who do much to cheer their neighbours, particularly in adeadly-lively provincial place like Muddleton, where the standardof social intercourse is not very high. Mrs. O’Reillyhad been in her day a celebrated beauty; she was now grey-hairedand stout, but still there was something impressive about her,and few could resist the charm of her manner and the pleasanteasy flow of her small talk. Her love of gossip amountedalmost to a passion, and nothing came amiss to her; she liked toknow everything about everybody, and in the main I think herinterest was a kindly one, though she found that a little bit ofscandal, every now and then, added a piquant flavour to thehomely fare provided by the commonplace life of theMuddletonians.
I will now, without further preamble, begin the history of mylife.
* * * * *
“I assure you, my dear Lena, Mr. Zaluski is nothing lessthan a Nihil