"The young
gentlemen be a deal of trouble, but they do keep a bit of life in the
place, sure enough."
CHAPTER XXV
THE DEATH OF RUBENS--POLLY'S NEWS--LAST TIMES
When one has reached a certain age time seems to go very fast. Then,
also, one begins to understand the meaning of such terms as "the
uncertainty of life," "changes," "loss of friends," "partings," "old
times," etc., which ring sadly in the ears of grown-up folk.
After my first half at Eton, this universal experience became mine.
There was never a holiday time that I did not find some change; and,
too often, a loss to meet my return.
One of the first and bitterest was the death of Rubens.
I had been most anxious to get home, and yet somehow, in less high
spirits than usual, which made it feel not unnatural that my father's
face should be so unusually grave when he came to meet me.
"I have some very bad news for you, my dear boy," he said. "I fear,
Regie, that poor Rubens is dying."
"He've been a-dying all day, sir," said the groom, when we stood at
last by Rubens' side. "But he seems as if he couldn't go peaceable
till you was come."
He seemed to be gone. The beautiful curls were limp and tangled.
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