Eld slapped the investigation report onto the table: "What do you an by ’even Eld can’t compare’? What does that bald guy an by this? What does he take for? A reference point for the lower limits of civilized human life?"
Arthur flipped over to a new page of the newspaper without lifting his head: "Haven’t you always claid to be a Byron-esque hero, an experinter of the boundaries of free living?"
"That’s what I said myself!" Eld fud: "I say I’m a wanderer, a tease, a style. But when Charles says it, it’s nonsense."
He waved Darwin’s report: "Look at this, frequenting Leicester Square all the ti? When have I ever done that all the ti? It’s planned! It’s a planned survey of London’s nightlife ecology, a... a kind of anthropological research."
"Anthropological research?" Arthur pondered: "True, you even did a classification and statistics, and published a monograph. But Eld, falsifying experintal results in your monograph is discouraged in scientific circles now."
Of course, Eld knew what Arthur was talking about.
"A Hillbilly’s Guide: More London rrint! Enjoying Prosperity in the tropolis"!
This year’s bestseller in London’s underground publishing market.
He shalessly said, "I did the classification statistics to avoid duplicate findings affecting the accuracy of the final research results! Besides, Charles invited , and a few tis he even guided himself!"
Arthur raised his eyelids in surprise: "Are you sure it was the bald one guiding you?"
"Of course." Eld, feeling weak, said, "He was going to that old bookstore next to Leicester Square, and I just happened to go around to the front, but at least geographically we were in the sa area."
Seeing Eld’s guilty deanor, Arthur didn’t bother teasing him further, not in front of Becky.
He changed the subject: "By the way, have you seen Charles’s fiancée?"
"I’ve seen her once." Eld’s spirit lifted at this: "Last year when I had just returned to Britain, I visited Charles’s ho once. At that ti, Charles was reluctant to tell who his fiancée was. But after asking around town, I finally got to the bottom of it. You know, Arthur, even though Charles said she was his fiancée, it turns out that old guy hasn’t actually proposed yet."
"Who is she?"
Thinking about Charles Darwin soon to have cabbage, Eld couldn’t help but feel a bit incensed: "That guy doesn’t even know how he got such good luck, haha, if I tell you about his girlfriend, you’ll be amazed."
Eld tapped the teapot on the table with his finger: "See this?"
"Teapot?"
"Yes, but also no."
"Ceramics (China)?"
"You’re getting close."
"Is Charles marrying a Chinese girl?"
Eld rolled his eyes: "Arthur, can your guessing be a bit more reasonable? Why don’t you say Charles is marrying Princess Victoria?"
Arthur said: "If Charles has this ability, then I would wholeheartedly support it."
"Fine, let just tell you directly." Eld cleared his throat: "Our old friend, top student at Trinity College, Cambridge, ship chaplain of the Beagle, mber of the Royal Society and Linnaean Society, Mr. Charles Darwin, is considering proposing to his cousin, Miss Emma Wedgwood, granddaughter of Mr. Josiah Wedgwood."
"Portrait of Lady Emma Darwin," painted by British artist George Richmond in 1840
Once Eld ntioned the surna Wedgwood, Arthur imdiately understood why he was talking about the ceramic teapot.
Because the valuable ceramic teapot was produced by Britain’s most successful ceramic manufacturer, Wedgwood.
The reason Arthur replaced all the ceramics in his ho with Wedgwood brand was because he saw that the dining ware used by Tsar Nicholas I in Russia was all custom-made by Wedgwood.
Or, to put it more precisely, the set of dining ware was a Romanov family heirloom, ordered by Catherine I from Wedgwood during Nicholas I’s grandmother’s ti. Moreover, apart from the Russian Royal Family, the British Royal Family has also always been a major client of Wedgwood. Since last century, Wedgwood has been the official ceramic supplier to the British Royal Family.
Even though Arthur is not a Tsar, and probably won’t beco one in his lifeti, nor is he a middle-class earner of forty thousand pounds per year, York Pigman still wanted to try and see if the Emperor’s gold hoe is indeed better than his iron one.
Therefore, driven by the idea of wealth redistribution, Arthur placed an order with Wedgwood shortly after returning to London.
Certainly, his order wasn’t as substantial as the Russians, and he dared not choose the sa style as Empress Catherine’s.
Hearing the news that Darwin was to marry a Wedgwood heiress was like a bolt from the blue to Arthur.
If he knew Darwin had connections earlier, he wouldn’t have rushed to place his order.
Arthur indignantly said: "This Charles guy really kept it well-hidden. I used to think his family was just an ordinary clinic..."
Eld rolled his eyes: "Who says otherwise? Charles indeed told the truth about his family being doctors, but he didn’t ntion that his grandfather had been invited by George III to serve as an Imperial Physician, though he refused because he didn’t like London. Moreover, did you know? His grandfather and Jas Watt, the inventor of the steam engine, were close friends, and they even founded a natural philosophy organization called the Lunar Society, which included nurous mbers of the Royal Society. His grandfather, his father, his maternal grandfather, his uncle, all were mbers of the Royal Society. We almost got fooled."
Most of Eld’s words didn’t enter Arthur’s ears, as he was still distressed over the hefty price he paid for the Wedgwood ceramics: "Charles, Miss Wedgwood... what’s he hesitating about? Eld, I think we should imdiately write a letter urging him. If only there were telegraph lines to Shrewsbury, I’d send him a telegram right now."
"Who says not?" Eld threw a grape into his mouth: "Just Charles, just Charles Darwin, managing to marry Miss Wedgwood, all thanks to the good karma I’ve accumulated during my five years of devoutly sailing on the seas. I can’t understand what the bald guy is hesitating over. But then... Charles might have an idea himself, I heard he intends to take his cousin to Margate beach for a vacation next month."
"Margate? Kent County?" Arthur’s mind raced upon hearing the na: "Well... speaking of which, I also plan to recuperate there next month, as my heart’s been a bit uncomfortable lately."
"Oh really?" Eld seed to recall sothing: "Oh, right, isn’t Alexander planning to bring his son to Britain for a vacation next month? If you ask , there’s nothing worth staying for in London. I haven’t used my annual vacation this year, so why don’t we all go to Margate to stir things up for Charles? Oh, and bring along Charles, Mr. Dickens, who’s about to lose his first love to marriage. There are plenty of wealthy heiresses vacationing by the seaside; if he manages to hook one, it won’t be worse than the banker daughter who’s enchanted him."
"Hmm..." Arthur tapped his fingers on the table: "And Benjamin? Are we just going to leave him alone in London?"
"Benjamin, huh..." Eld couldn’t help but feel jealous at the thought of the Jewish lad: "You don’t have to worry about him. Mrs. Sikes’s ’mini honeymoon trip’ schedule has been set for them early on."
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