"I wish I could make it to the Lair without getting wet. Lovely weather, I'll say!" – he thought with a chuckle as he looked up at the cloudy sky.
As if to mock the young man's hope, a loud clap of thunder suddenly pierced the air.
– Thomas, speed it up! – Anthony said to his coachman with a light laugh.
– Yes, sir! – The coachman replied, and, with a little shriek of his whip, spurred the white horses.
The carriage rolled swiftly down the stone-paved streets, nearly knocking down the common people crossing the road. But soon Anthony's luck changed, and his carriage got stuck in a traffic jam. It was as if God had decided to mock the people of London: in an instant it rained so hard that it was difficult to see anything at arm's length.
"Devil! That suit was delivered only yesterday! What bad luck!" – He was soaked to the skin, as were all the others who were in the open streets and squares at this time. It was the elegant dark blue suit he had wished to show off to his friends. Alas! The suit and hat were irretrievably ruined. Only the black leather shoes were intact.
Young Cranford's mood had waned, but the downpour had distracted him from the strange and unnecessary thoughts that had been troubling him all the way: thoughts of how lovely his young cousin Vivian was. He saw before him her embarrassed smile and big green eyes like emeralds. And she was so touchingly defenceless, this girl....
– Here we are, sir! – suddenly he heard the loud bass of his coachman.
"I must have forgotten myself again. Only to fall in love with a penniless cousin, however beautiful she may be!" – Anthony thought to himself with mockery.
– Go home and pick me up at six o'clock tomorrow," he commanded the coachman: the young hustler did not wish to be late for breakfast at Greenhall, knowing how his absence from the table would upset his mother. The young man loved and respected his mother very much, even though she disapproved of his late-night revels with his friends at the Den.
"The Den" was a small two-storey house that Anthony and his two friends rented almost on the outskirts of London. The purpose of this place was: drinking hard liquor, having fun with corrupt women and playing cards for money. However, it was not something blatantly obscene: almost all the young aristocrats of London partied as if these were the last nights of their lives. Anthony Cranford was one of them, and not even his mother could stop him from going out drinking with his friends! Youth, what can you take from it? Its desires are only to be resigned to, or looked down upon.