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Literary Lapses
·
Stephen Leacock
11
At
this
moment
the
door
opened
and
Edwin
Einstein
stood
before
the
earl.
Gwendoline
never
forgot
what
happened.
Through
her
life
the
picture
of
it
haunted
her--her
lover
upright
at
the
door,
his
fine
frank
gaze
fixed
inquiringly
on
the
diamond
pin
in
her
father's
necktie,
and
he,
her
father,
raising
from
the
mantelpiece
a
face
of
agonized
amazement.
"You!
You!"
he
gasped.
For
a
moment
he
stood
to
his
full
height,
swaying
and
groping
in
the
air,
then
fell
prostrate
his
full
length
upon
the
floor.
The
lovers
rushed
to
his
aid.
Edwin
tore
open
his
neckcloth
and
plucked
aside
his
diamond
pin
to
give
him
air.
But
it
was
too
late.
Earl
Oxhead
had
breathed
his
last.
Life
had
fled.
The
earl
was
extinct.
That
is
to
say,
he
was
dead.
The
reason
of
his
death
was
never
known.
Had
the
sight
of
Edwin
killed
him?
It
might
have.
The
old
family
doctor,
hurriedly
summoned,
declared
his
utter
ignorance.
This,
too,
was
likely.
Edwin
himself
could
explain
nothing.
But
it
was
observed
that
after
the
earl's
death
and
his
marriage
with
Gwendoline
he
was
a
changed
man;
he
dressed
better,
talked
much
better
English.
The
wedding
itself
was
quiet,
almost
sad.
At
Gwendoline's
request
there
was
no
wedding
breakfast,
no
bridesmaids,
and
no
reception,
while
Edwin,
respecting
his
bride's
bereavement,
insisted
that
there
should
be
no
best
man,
no
flowers,
no
presents,
and
no
honeymoon.
Thus
Lord
Oxhead's
secret
died
with
him.
It
was
probably
too
complicated
to
be
interesting
anyway.
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