When he came to bid us good-bye, he brought his mother with him for the first time. She was a pretty old lady, with bright black eyes, but she seemed proud. She came from Wales and had had, a long time ago, an eminent person for an ancestor, of the name of Morgan ap-Kerrig--of some place that sounded like Gimlet--who was the most illustrious person that ever was known and all of whose relations were a sort of royal family. He appeared to have passed his life in always getting up into mountains and fighting somebody; and a bard whose name sounded like Crumlinwallinwer had sung his praises in a piece which was called, as nearly as I could catch it, Mewlinnwillinwodd.
Mrs. Woodcourt, after expatiating to us on the fame of her great kinsman, said that no doubt wherever her son Allan went he would remember his pedigree and would on no account form an alliance below it. She told him that there were many handsome English ladies in India who went out on speculation, and that there were some to be picked up with property, but that neither charms nor wealth would suffice for the descendant from such a line without birth, which must ever be the first consideration. She talked so much about birth that for a moment I half fancied, and with pain--But what an idle fancy to suppose that she could think or care what MINE was!
Mr. Woodcourt seemed a little distressed by her prolixity, but he was too considerate to let her see it and contrived delicately to bring the conversation round to making his acknowledgments to my guardian for his hospitality and for the very happy hours--he called them the very happy hours--he had passed with us. The recollection of them, he said, would go with him wherever he went and would be always treasured. And so we gave him our hands, one after another--at least, they did--and I did; and so he put his lips to Ada's hand--and to mine; and so he went away upon his long, long voyage!

When he came to bid us good-bye, he brought his mother with him for the first time. She was a pretty old lady, with bright black eyes, but she seemed proud. She came from Wales and had had, a long time ago, an eminent ancestor, of the name of Morgan ap-Kerrig - of some place that sounded like Gimlet - whose relations were a sort of royal family. This ancestor appeared to have passed his life in always getting up into mountains and fighting somebody; and a bard whose name sounded like Crumlinwallinwer had sung his praises in a piece which was called, as nearly as I could catch it, Mewlinnwillinwodd.
Mrs. Woodcourt, after telling us of the fame of her great kinsman, said that no doubt wherever her son Allan went he would remember his pedigree, and would never form an alliance below it. She told him that there were many handsome English ladies in India who were looking for a husband, but that high birth must ever be the first consideration. She talked so much about birth that for a moment I half fancied, and with pain - but what an idle fancy to suppose that she could care what mine was!
Mr. Woodcourt seemed a little distressed by her talk, but he was too considerate to let her see it and contrived delicately to bring the conversation round to thanking my guardian for his hospitality and for the very happy hours he had passed with us. The recollection of them, he said, would go with him and would be always treasured.
And so we gave him our hands, one after another; and so he put his lips to Ada's hand - and to mine; and so he went away upon his long, long voyage!
