Vellenaux A Novel - Edmund William Forrest (7 ebook reader txt) 📗

Her Tall Tapering Spars

Fading From View,  For The Bright Orb Of Day Had Already Sank Beneath Its

Ocean Bed,  And The Golden Tints Of The Horizon Were Fast Deepening To

The Purple Shades Of Night. There Were But Three Other Passengers,  An

Old Major Of Artillery,  A Merchant Of Cape Town,  And A Juvenile Ensign

Of Infantry,  Going Out To Join His Regiment. There Were No Other Ladies

On Board; This Was A Source Of Infinite Satisfaction To The Flying

Widow,  Who,  From Prudential Motives,  Had Engaged Her Passage Under The

Name Of Mrs. Harcourt Grenville,  And Fears For Her Personal Safety Were

Completely Set At Rest On Finding That The News Of The Accident By Rail,

Which Had Cost Sir Ralph Coleman His Life,  Had Not Reached The Ear Of

Any Person On Board,  And She,  Herself,  Was Not Quite Certain But That

Her Accomplice In Fraud Might Yet Survive; If So,  Her Condition Was

Still Very Precarious,  But She Argued That He Would Scarcely Recover,  Or

He Would Not Have Committed Himself By Making Known To The World His

Share In The Transaction Concerning The Stolen Will,  And Under The

Assumed Name,  And In a Distant Land,  She Would Be Secure From Detection.

She Had No Intention Of Remaining At The Cape; Her Object Was To Try Her

Fortune In India,  And Had Only Come On Board The "Kaffir Chief," As It

Afforded Her The Earliest Opportunity For Evading Pursuit. She Was Well

Aware That She Could Easily Proceed To India From The Cape In One Of The

Indiamen That So Frequently Touched At That Port,  And So,  On The Whole,

She Felt Tolerably Easy In Her New Position,  And Set To Work,  With Her

Usual Tact,  To Make Herself Agreeable To The Captain And Her Fellow

Travellers. Ensign Winterton She Took Under Her Especial Protection,

Which Very Much Flattered His Boyish Pride; Made Considerable Headway

With Major Dowlas,  Who,  By The Way,  Was A Bachelor; And Never Failed To

Accept The Proffered Arm Of The Attentive Captain,  When On Deck; For

Although Married And On The Wrong Side Of Fifty,  Being An Irishman And A

Corkonian,  He Was Not Insensible To The Charms Of A Handsome Woman Some

Years His Junior.

 

Her Account Of Herself Was,  That She Was The Wife Of A Surgeon At

Graham'S Town,  Had Been Some Time In england,  And Had Spent The Spring

And Part Of The Summer In London,  And Intended To Remain At Cape Town

Until Her Husband Came For Her. She Had Several Thousand Pounds,  The

Savings Of Some Twenty Years,  Dressed With Excellent Taste,  And Had

Taken Such Good Care Of Her Constitution,  That She Looked At Least Ten

Years Younger Than She Really Was,  And Felt Convinced From All She Had

Heard And Read,  That She Would Experience But Little Difficulty In

Procuring A Suitable Husband And Establishment In One Of The Indian

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Assistance,  Without Which,  He Was Wont To Observe,  He Scarcely Knew What

He Should Do.

 

When The Rector Was Removed From This Sublunary Sphere,  The Rev. Charles

Denham,  Through The Interest Of Lord Patronage,  Whose Fag He Had Been

While At Eton,  Obtained The Vacant Rectorship. This Was Considered By

The Good Folks Of The District To Be A Fortunate Circumstance,  And

Things Went Smoothly On As In The Good Old Time. But On The Death Of Her

Parents Emily Barton,  As The Reader Already Knows,  Left Vellenaux To

Reside In London. The Rev. Gentleman Did Not Know Which Way To Turn; He

Was Sorely Puzzled; He Had Depended So Much On Emily That He Began To

Think Seriously Of The Possibility Of Being Able To Induce Miss Barton

To Exchange That Name For The One Of Denham. This Matter Had Been

Revolving In His Mind For Some Time Past,  Though He Had Given No

Utterance To His Feelings,  And Now She Was About To Leave That Part Of

The Country,  Perhaps For A Lengthened Period. "If," Thought He,  "The

Sunday School Had Emily At Its Head,  It Would Materially Assist Me," And

He Felt Convinced That The Rectory,  Without A Wife To Superintend It,

Would Be,  After All,  A Very Lonely Place To Pass His Days In,  Would She

Not Consent To Undertake The Double Duties. "I Have Never Spoken To

Her," He Said Musingly,  As He Paced Up And Down His Study,  "But I Shall,

When Grief For The Loss Of Her Parents Will Allow Her To Listen To Such

A Proposal."

 

On Parting With Him On The Morning Of Her Departure,  She Was Somewhat

Embarassed At His Altered Manner Towards Her. She Could Not But Notice

His Warm Pressure Of Her Hand,  And His Earnestness Of Manner,  When

Asking Permission To Visit Her In London.

 

"My Aunt And Sister Will,  I Am Sure,  Be Always Happy To Receive You When

In London," She Quietly Replied,  And After A Moment'S Pause,  Continued:

"I Shall Likewise Still Take An Interest In The School,  And Shall Be

Glad To Learn How My Little Scholars Are Getting On."

 

The Young Rector Found It Necessary To Visit London On Several Occasions

During The Next Twelvemonth.

 

In One Of The Broad Gravelled Avenues Of Kensington Gardens,  Slowly

Walking Beneath The Magnificent Trees,  The Soft Mossy Grass,  Yellow And

White Daisy,  Bending Beneath Their Footsteps,  Were Two Figures,--The One

A Gentleman Dressed In black,  With A White Clerical Neck-Tie,  The Other

A Lady About The Medium Height,  With Pretty Features,  And Decidedly

Elegant Figure,  Which Was Set Off To Advantage By The Cut And Fit Of The

Pale Lavender Silk Dress She Wore. They Were Progressing Slowly Towards

The Gate Leading Into Hyde Park; Their Conversation Was Somewhat

Interrupted By A Knot Of Passing Guardsmen And Other Fashionable

Loungers,  To Be Again Resumed When They Were Beyond Ear Shot. They

Continued Their Walk Along The Bank Of The Serpentine,  And Could The

Passer By Have Peered Through The Lady'S Veil,  He Would Have Found Her

Face Suffused With Blushes At Different Turns In The Conversation,  But

They Were Those Of Pleasure,  For Certainly The Crimson Flush Of Anger

Found No Place There. They Crossed The Park And Passed Out At Stanhope

Gate And Turned In The Direction Of Berkly Square.

 

"You Have Made Me So Happy,  Dear Emily,  Since You Grant Me Permission To

Speak To Your Aunt And Brother On The Subject Nearest My Heart," And The

Rev. Charles Denham Pressed The Little Hand Within His Own,  Made His

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Bow,  And Walked In The Direction Of Harley Street,  While Emily Barton

Entered The House Of Her Brother Horace.

 

There Is An Old Saying,  Familiar To Most Of Us As Household Words,  Which

Tends To Show That The Course Of True Love Never Does Run Smooth. Now

With All Due Deference To The Talented Authority Who Promulgated This

Startling Announcement,  We Beg To Differ With Him On The Subject. It May

Be As He Says,  As A Rule,  But Our Belief Is That There Are Exceptions To

This Rule,  As Well As To Others; For We Say Without Fear Of

Contradiction,  That The Loves Of The Pretty Emily Barton And Her Very

Devoted Lover,  The Rev. Charles Denham,  Glided Smoothly And Sweetly

Along Its Unruffled Course,  Until It Eventuated In That Fountain Of

Human Happiness Or Misery,  Marriage. On The Lady'S Side There Was No

Stern,  Selfish Parent Who Would Burden The Young Shoulders,  And Drive

From Her Path Those Inmost Pleasures So Natural To The Young And

Light-Hearted,  And Cause Her To Lose Her Freshness And Bloom,  By

Attending Solely To His Whims And Wishes,  Or Crush Her Young Heart With

Hope Deferred. There Was No Ambitious Match Making Mother,  Ready To

Sacrifice The Hearts Best Affections,  In Order That She Might Become The

Unloved Wife Of Some Shallow Pated Young Dandy,  With More Aristocratic

Blood Than Brains,  And A Coronet In Perspective.

 

Nor Was The Reverend Lover Subjected To Any Trials Of A Similar Nature;

He Was An Orphan,  With But One Near Relative,  A Bachelor Uncle,  Who Was

Fond Of His Nephew,  And Proud Of His Talent And The Position He Had

Attained As Rector Of Vellenaux. The Old Gentleman Had Intended To Leave

Him His Property,  Amounting To Some Five Thousand Pounds,  In The Five

Per Cents.,  At His Death; But The Kind-Hearted Relative On Learning That

His Brother'S Son Had Secured So Estimable A Lady For His Wife;

Belonging To A Family Who For So Many Years Had Resided In The

Neighborhood Of Vellenaux,  The Scene Of The Young Rector'S Labours; He

Altered His Will,  Placing Half Of The Original Sum To Charles Denham'S

Credit,  At Drummond'S Bank In London,  Subject To His Cheque Or Order,  So

That The Rectory Could Be Furnished And Fitted Up With All The

Requisites Befitting The Position Of The Young Couple.

 

It Was A Right Joyous Group That Gathered Around The Wedding Breakfast

Table At 54 Harley Street,  On That Bright Summer Morn,  That Saw Emily

Barton Made The Happy Bride Of The Equally Happy Rector Of Vellenaux. A

Friendly Bishop Tied The Connubial Knot In One Of The Most Aristocratic

Churches In London,  And A Few Hours Afterwards Emily And Charles

Departed,  Not By Rail,  To Some Uncomfortable Foreign Hotel,  But By

Travelling,  Carriage And Post Horses To Their Home At Vellenaux. For The

Guests Who Had Assembled To Witness The Wedding Ceremony,  There Was

Another Treat In Store,  They Were Invited To A Ball Given In Honor Of

The Occasion By The Brother Of The Bride,  At His Mansion In berkly

Square,  Concerning Which More Anon.

 

The Term For Which The Willows Had Been Rented,  Now Expired,  And Horace

Determined To No Longer Delay His Departure For Devonshire. This Had

Been Ever In His Mind While Serving In India. He Loved The Old Place And

There Were Now Fresh Inducements For Him To Give Up The House In London,

And Repair To The Willows. His Brother Tom Was Married And Settled At

Vellenaux,  And Emily Had Just Become The Wife Of The Rector,  And Lived

Within A Stone'S Throw Of Her Old Home. Thus,  With The Visits Of His

Aunt And The Ashburnham'S,  Pauline Would Not Be Without Society; Besides

He Would Take Her And Edith,  Whom He Now Looked Upon As A Sister,  To

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London During The Height Of The Gay Season,  And This He Thought Would

Not Fail To Please All Parties.

 

Mrs. Barton Was To Give A Farewell Entertainment Prior To Her Departure,

Which Should Exceed Anything That She Had Hitherto Attempted,  And The

Evening