A perfect and celebrated "blood," or dandy about town, was this young officer. Boxing, rat-hunting, the fives court, and four-in-hand driving were then the fashion of our British aristocracy; and he was an adept in all these noble sciences. And though he belonged to the household troops, who, as it was their duty to rally round the Prince Regent, had not shown their valour in foreign service yet, Rawdon Crawley had already (apropos of play, of which he was immoderately fond) fought three bloody duels, in which he gave ample proofs of his contempt for death.
"And for what follows after death," would Mr. Crawley observe, throwing his gooseberry-coloured eyes up to the ceiling. He was always thinking of his brother's soul, or of the souls of those who differed with him in opinion: it is a sort of comfort which many of the serious give themselves.
Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, far from being horrified at the courage of her favourite, always used to pay his debts after his duels; and would not listen to a word that was whispered against his morality. "He will sow his wild oats," she would say, "and is worth far more than that puling hypocrite of a brother of his."
The young officer was a celebrated "blood," or dandy about town. Boxing, rat-hunting, the fives court, and four-in-hand driving were then the fashion; and he was an adept in all these. And though he belonged to the household troops, who did not go to battle, Rawdon Crawley had already fought three bloody duels, in which he gave proof of his contempt for death.
Silly, romantic Miss Crawley, far from being horrified at the courage of her favourite, used to pay his debts after his duels; and would not listen to a word that was whispered against him.
"He will sow his wild oats," she would say, "and is worth far more than that puling hypocrite of a brother of his."