As regards his jealousy, a single instance which I give in justice
to myself and Nyleptha will suffice. The reader will, perhaps,
recollect that in one or two places he speaks as though Nyleptha
monopolized me, and he was left by both of us rather out in the
cold. Now Nyleptha is not perfect, any more than any other woman
is, and she may be a little exigeante at times, but as regards
Quatermain the whole thing is pure imagination. Thus when he
complains about my not coming to see him when he is ill, the
fact was that, in spite of my entreaties, the doctors positively
forbade it. Those little remarks of his pained me very much
when I read them, for I loved Quatermain as dearly as though
he were my own father, and should never have dreamed of allowing
my marriage to interfere with that affection. But let it pass;
it is, after all, but one little weakness, which makes no great
show among so many and such lovable virtues.
Well, he died, and Good read the Burial Service over him in the
presence of Nyleptha and myself; and then his remains were, in
deference to the popular clamour, accorded a great public funeral,
or rather cremation. I could not help thinking, however, as
I marched in that long and splendid procession up to the Temple,
how he would have hated the whole thing could he have been there
to see it, for he had a horror of ostentation.
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