Vellenaux A Novel - Edmund William Edmund William (best affordable ebook reader .txt) 📗
- Author: Edmund William Edmund William
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The Bright Rays Of An Autumn Sun Fell Upon The Richly Stained Glass,
Sending A Flood Of Soft, Mellow Rainbow Tinted Light Through The
Quaintly Curved And Deeply Mullioned Windows Which Adorned A Portion Of
The Eastern Wing Of That Grand Old Baronial Residence, Vellenaux, On A
Fine September Morning, At The Period During Which Our Story Opens. This
Handsome Pile, Now The Property Of Sir Jasper Coleman, Had Been Erected
By One Of His Ancestors, Reginald De Coleman, During The Reign Of The
Fifth Henry.
This Gallant Knight Had Rendered That Monarch Great Service During His
Wars In France, Especially At Agincourt, Where His Skill And Bravery Was
So Conspicuous, And Used To So Great Advantage, That King Henry, On His
Return To England, Rewarded His Faithful Follower With A Grant Of Land
In Devonshire, On Which He Was Enabled, With The Spoils He Had Acquired
And The Ransoms Received From His French Prisoners Of Note, To Erect A
Magnificent Chateaux, Which He Called Vellenaux, After Francois, Count
De Vellenaux, A French Noble, Whose Ransom Contributed Largely To Its
Construction. Here He Continued To Reside Until His Death, Which
Occurred Several Years After.
It Was Now An Irregular Edifice, Having Been Partially Destroyed And
Otherwise Defaced During The Contests Which Ensued Between The Cavaliers
And Roundheads At The Time Of The Commonwealth. Since Then Alterations
And Additions Had Been Made By His Successors, And, Although Of
Different Styles Of Architecture, Was Now One Of The Handsomest And Most
Picturesque Structures That Could Be Met With Throughout The Length And
Breadth Of The Shire.
A Broad Avenue Of Noble Elms Led From The Lodge At The Entrance Of The
Domain And Opened Upon A Beautiful Carriage Drive That Wound Round The
Velvet Lawn, Which Formed A Magnificent And Spacious Oval In Front Of
The Grand Entrance.
Beneath The Outspreading Branches Of The Venerable Oaks, With Which The
Home Park Was Studded, Browsed The Red And Fallow Deer, Who, On The
Approach Of Any Equestrian Parties, Or At The Advance Of Some
Aristocratic Vehicle Bearing Its Freight Of Gay, Laughing Guests Towards
The Hospitable Mansion, Would Toss Their Antlered Heads, Or, Startled,
Seek The Cover Of Those Green Shady Alleys Leading To The Beech Woods
Which Adjoined The Park And Stretched Away Towards The Coast Of Devon.
Sir Jasper, Who Was Still A Bachelor, And On The Shady Side Of Sixty,
Retained Much Of The Fire And Energy Of His Earlier Years, Although At
Times Subject To An Infirmity Which The Medical Faculty Describe As
Emanating From Disease Of The Heart. He Had Served With Great
Distinction During The Peninsular War, Under The Iron Duke, But, On
Succeeding To The Baronetcy, Left The Service And Retired To His Present
Estate, Where He Spent Most Of His Time At This His Favorite Residence,
As Hunting, Shooting And Field Sports Generally Had For Him A Charm
That No Allurements Of City Life Could Tempt Him To Forego; Besides He
Had, In The Earlier Part Of His Military Career, Visited Many Of The Gay
Capitals Of Europe And Engaged In The Exciting Pleasures Always To Be
Met With In Such Places, Until He Had Become Satiated And Lost All Taste
For Such Scenes. His Kind Heartedness And Benevolence Won For Him The
Esteem Of The Neighboring Gentry.
On The Morning In Question The Baronet, Who Had But The Evening Previous
Returned From London, Entered His Study, And Seating Himself In an Easy
Chair, Drew Towards Him A Small But Elaborately Carved Antique
Escritoire, And For Several Moments Was Deeply Engaged In The Perusal Of
Certain Papers And Memoranda; Finally He Drew From His Pocket A Sealed
Packet Which, Having Opened Carefully, He Read Over; Then As If Not
Quite Satisfied With The Contents, Allowed The Paper To Slip From His
Hand To The Table Before Him And Was Soon Lost In Thought. An English
Gentleman, Unquestionably In The Highest Sense Of The Word, Was Sir
Jasper Coleman; A True Type Of That Class Who, From The Time Of The
Norman Conquest To The Present Day, Whether Beneath The Torrid Or Frigid
Zone'S; On The Bloody Battlefield, Or Launching Their Thunders On The
Billows Of The White-Crested Main, Nobly Upheld The Honor Of Their
Country'S Flag, Whose Heroic Deeds And Honorable Names Have Been Handed
Down Unsullied And Untarnished For Many Generations. Since Leaving The
Service The Worthy Baronet Had Taken No Part In The Political Events Of
The Nation, But Devoted Himself Entirely To The Welfare Of His Numerous
Tenantry, And Those Residing In The Neighborhood Of His Large Estate, To
Whom Assistance And Advice Was At All Times Needed, Nor Was It Ever
Withheld Or Given Grudgingly When Any Case Of Real Distress Came Under
His Notice.
A Fine Subject Fog Poet'S Pen Or Artist'S Pencil Was That Aristocratic
Old Warrior, As He Sat There Gazing Upon The Rich Woodlands Warmed By
The Glorious Autumn Sun, Thinking Over By-Gone Days--Days When He Had
Loitered By Some Fair One'S Side In Many A Brilliant Assembly, Or When
His Nerves Were Steady And His Voice All Powerful, Leading The Charge On
Many A Well-Fought Field. How Long He Might Have Remained Ruminating On
Things Of The Past It Is Impossible To Say; The Retrospect Might Have
Continued Much Longer Had Not His Attention Been Arrested By A Slight
Noise, When Suddenly Raising His Head A Smile Of Pleasure Lit Up His
Finely Cut Features As The Door Opened And A Lovely Girl, Just Merging
Into Womanhood, Stepped Softly Into The Room. She Was, Indeed, Very
Beautiful; Hair Of The Darkest Shade Of Brown Hung In Long And Glossy
Curls From Her Perfectly Shaped Head, And Rested On The Exquisite White
Neck And Shoulders, The Contrast Of Which Showed To A Great Degree The
Almost Alabaster Whiteness Of Her Skin; Grecian Nose, And Eyes Of The
Deepest Blue, Whose Long Lashes, When Veiled, Rested Lovingly On Her
Damask Cheek, And When Raised, Revealed A Depth And Brilliancy Which
Does Not Often Fall To The Lot Of Mortals; A Mouth Not Too Small, Whose
Beautifully Shaped Lips, When Parted, Disclosed To The Beholder Teeth Of
Ivory Whiteness, Small And Most Evenly Set, Dazzling Indeed Was The
Effect Of Those Pearly Treasures; Tall, Slight, And Elegantly Formed,
With A Bearing Aristocratic And Queenly In The Extreme; What Wonder That
She Was The Sunshine Of Old Sir Jasper'S Declining Days And His Much And
Dearly Loved Niece.
Gliding Up To Her Uncle She Threw Heir Arms About His Neck And
Imprinted A Kiss On His Noble Brow, Then Sinking On A Stool At His Feet
Began To Take Him To Task After The Following Fashion: "You Truant, You
Naughty Uncle, To Let Me Breakfast Alone In My Own Room Thinking You
Hundreds Of Miles Away, And Not To Let Me Know That You Returned Last
Night; And Mrs. Fraudhurst Is Just As Bad, And I Will Not Forgive Her Or
You, Unless You Tell Me Where You Have Been And All You Have Seen And
Done. Now, Sir Wanderer, Commence And Give An Account Of Yourself; You
See I Am Prepared To Listen," Apparently Waiting With Much Attention For
Her Uncle To Enlighten Her As To The Why And Wherefore He Had Journeyed
To London. It Was Evident That The Baronet Had Been In The Habit Of
Making A Confidant Of His Pretty Niece, But On This Occasion, For One
Reason Or Another He Had Failed To Do So; She Had Taken Out Of One Of
Her Little Embroidered Pockets In Her Apron, Some Crochet Work, And
Applied Herself Diligently Thereunto.
Edith Was The Orphan Child Of Sir Jasper'S Much Loved And Only Sister,
Who Did Not Long Survive The Death Of Her Husband, And On Her Decease
The Baronet Had Adopted The Child, And As She Grew Up, Her Affectionate
Disposition And Natural Simplicity Wound Themselves Round The Old Man'S
Heart, And Thus She Soon Became The Apple Of His Eye, And He Loved Her
With All The Tender Solicitude Of A Father.
She Was Gentle And Friendly To Those Beneath Her, But Dignified And Firm
With Those Of Her Own Station Of Life, With A Fund Of Good Practical
Common Sense, And Was Not Easily Dissuaded From Doing Any Thing When She
Had Once Made Up Her Mind That It Was Her Duty So To Do. She Loved Her
Uncle Well And Was Ever Ready To Minister To His Slightest Wishes. She
Used To Delight Him With The Rich Tone Of Her Voice By Singing
Selections From His Favorite Operas, Being An Accomplished Musician Both
Vocal And Instrumental. They Would Frequently Wander For Hours Through
The Park Or Woods, But Of Late He Had Restricted His Walks To The Lawn,
Or Down The Avenue To The Lodge At The Park Gate, To Hold Converse With
The Keeper, An Old Soldier Who Had Served Under Him In His Peninsular
Campaigns, And Often When Relieved From The Attendance On Him Would
Edith And Arthur Carlton, Hand In Hand, Stroll Down The Said Avenue To
Listen To The Wonderful Stories Related By The Old Lodge Keeper. But
This Was Some Time Ago, For This Youth (Of Which More Will Be Heard
Anon) Was Now, And Had Been For Some Time, At College At Oxford.
"Edith My Darling," Said The Kind Old Man, Bending Over As He Did So And
Tapping Her Soft Rosy Cheek, "My Visit To London Was Purely A Business
One, And I Delayed No Longer Than Was Necessary To Complete It, But What
I Saw And Heard During My Journey To And Fro, I Will Relate To, You In
The Evening."
The Lively Girl Was About To Make Some Reply To Her Good Natured Uncle
When A Light Rapping Was Heard; The Door Gently Opened And A Lady About
Five And Thirty Entered; She Was Attired In a Dress Of Black Silk Of
Most Undeniable Paris Cut, Which Fitted Her To A Miracle; To Edith She
Made A Slight Inclination Of The Head So As Not To Disarrange Her
Coiffure Which Was Most Elaborately Got Up Doubtless With A View To
Produce An Effect.
"I Trust, Sir Jasper, You Slept Well After Your Tedious Journey."
"Very Well, I Thank You. Oh! I See You Have The Post Bag, I Am Somewhat
Anxious About Some Letters I Expect To Receive."
Moving Around The Back Of The Baronet'S Chair She Came Between Him And
Edith, Who Took The Bag From Her And Held Out Her Hand To Her Uncle For
The Key To Open It With, As Was Her Usual Custom Of A Morning; The Key
Was Handed To Her, And While They Were Thus Engaged The Eagle Eye Of The
Lady In black Fell Upon The Will Which Was Still Lying Partially Exposed
On The Escritoire Just As It Had Fallen From Sir Jasper'S Hand Ere He
Had Sank Into That Reverie Which Had Been Disturbed By The Entrance Of
Edith; She Obtained But A Hurried Glance, Yet It Was Sufficient For Her
To Decipher Its Full Meaning. As She Realized This A Dark Cloud Passed
Across Her Features, She Moved Silently To The Window And Looked Out;
When She Again Turned The Cloud Had Vanished And Her Face Was Calm And
Serene. So Occupied With The Mail Bag Had Been Both Uncle And Niece That
The Action Of The Lady In Question, In First Glancing Over The Paper On
The Desk And Her Subsequent Movement Towards The Window, Had Remained
Unnoticed By Either.
"There Is A Letter For You, My Dear," Said The Baronet Handing One To
Edith. "Oh!" Said She Joyously, "It Is From Arthur. He Is The Dearest
Old Fellow, And One Of The Best Correspondents Alive; He Tells The
Funniest Stories Of The College Scrapes He Gets Into, And How Cleverly
He Gets Out Of Them, And Makes All Manner Of Fun In His Caricatures Of
The Musty Old Professors."
"There, There Now, Away To Your Own Room," Said Her Uncle, "And Let Me
Know What New Scrape Your Dear Old Fellow Has Been Getting In and Out
Of, During Our Walk After Dinner." Edith Blushed Slightly And Hurried
Out Of The Apartment.
"There Are No Letters For You This Morning, Mrs. Fraudhurst, But Here
Are The London Papers, I Have No Time At Present To Look Over Them, And
Would Feel Obliged If You Would Lay Them On The Library Table." She Took
Them, And With A Graceful Courtesy, Smilingly Left The Room, And Went
Direct To The Library, Sat Down At The Table And Drew The Writing
Materials Towards Her As If About To Write; But Ere She Commenced Her
Head Sank On Her Hand And She Appeared To Be, For Some Moments, Lost In
Thought. As She Will Be Brought Prominently Forward As Our Story
Progresses, We Had
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