Vellenaux A Novel by Edmund William Edmund William (e book reader pc TXT) 📕

Write To Headquarters And Likewise See To Your Outfit. Of Course,  You

Will Remain Here Until After New Year'S,  And Help Us To Keep Up

Christmas In The Good Old English Style,  For Probably It May Be The Last

Of The Sort You Will See For Some Years; But Whatever Trials And

Difficulties You May Have To Contend With Out There,  You May Rest

Assured That When The Time Arrives For You To Have Your Troop,  The

Purchase Money Shall Not Be Wanting. And Now," Continued He,  As Arthur

Was About To Reply,  "Send Reynolds To Me,  I Wish To See Him On Some

Matters Before I Retire,  And You Seek Edith And Let Her Know That You

Have Accepted A Commission In The Army,  As I Have Not Mentioned A Word

To Her Concerning It. Please Make My Excuses To The Dear Girl For Not

Joining Her In The Drawing Room," Then Shaking Him Cordially By The

Hand,  Wished Him Good Night.

On Entering The Drawing Room,  Arthur Found Mrs. Fraudhurst Poring Over

Her Novel And Edith Standing By The French Window,  Looking Out Upon The

Terrace Which Was Now Bathed In a Flood Of Pale Moonlight. She Was

Wondering What Her Uncle Could Have To Say To Arthur To Detain Him So

Long: She Had So Much To Ask About Her Ponies And Her Grayhounds And

Improvements In Her Flower Gardens,  &C. He Delivered Sir Jasper'S

Message,  Then Asked Her To Step Out On The Terrace With Him. Hastily

Throwing A Mantle Around Her,  She Was Ready To Accompany Him. Gently

Drawing Her Arm Within His Own,  They Passed Out Of The Room,  And Stepped

On To The Balcony That Ran Along The Entire Length Of The South Of The

Building And Joined The Broad Terrace Below By Means Of A Flight Of

Marble Steps. At The Extreme End This Terrace Overlooked The Rich

_Partierre_ Which,  Although Late In The Season,  Still Sent Forth Its

Delicious Perfume,  Borne Upwards On The Soft Breeze Of The Evening.

"He Has Caught At The Indian Bait. We Have Hooked Our Fish; Our Next

Care Is To Have Him Safely Landed. The Poison Of Love Has Not,  As Yet,

Developed Itself. The Scarlet Fever Will Quench All Other Maladies,  At

Least Until The Seas Will Divide Them," And With A Self-Satisfied Smile

Upon Her Still Pretty Features,  Mrs. Fraudhurst Betook Her Self To Her

Own Apartments To Concoct An Epistle For The Information Of Ralph

Coleman.

For Nearly An Hour Did The Fair Young Creature And The Youth,  Who Had

Ever Been To Her As A Brother,  Pace Up And Down The Moonlit Terrace.

Arthur Related All That Passed Between Him And Her Uncle. She Was As

Much Delighted As Himself At The Prospect Which Had Thus Suddenly Opened

Before Him; The Only Drawback Was That He Would Be Absent So Long From

Vellenaux.

"But You Will Write Frequently,  And Come Home Whenever You Can Procure

Leave Of Absence. And To Think That You Will Not Leave Us For Three

Months. We Will Have A Merry Time This Christmas,  Arthur,  Will We Not?

And Wind Up With A Fancy Ball On The Eve Of Your Departure. Oh,  It Will

Be Delightful," Said The Excited Girl,  Carried Away By The Idea Of Such

An Event.

Verily,  Mrs. Fraudhurst Had Divined Truly. Love'S Insidious Poison Had

Not Yet Developed Itself In The Bosom Of Either. They Returned To The

Drawing Room,  And,  After Singing Together Some Of Their Favourite

Pieces,  They Retired For The Night.

It Was Near Morning Before Carlton Fell Asleep; Even Then His Brain

Continued To Be Disturbed By Exciting Dreams. Now Leading A Charge Of

Horses Or Storming Some Indian Fortress. Finally He Dreamed That He Had

Rescued Some Princess Or Rajah'S Daughter From Becoming The Prey Of An

Enormous Bengal Tiger,  The Head Of Which,  Strange To Say,  Bore A

Striking Resemblance To Mrs. Fraudhurst; That The Rajah,  In Return For

His Services,  Gave His Daughter To Him For A Bride; That The Marriage

Took Place At The Little Church At Vellenaux. He Thought That As The

Bride Approached The Altar In Gorgeous Attire,  And Was About To Place

Her Hand Within His,  A Seraph-Like Form Glided Between Them And His Hand

Was Lovingly Grasped By Edith Effingham,  When All Suddenly Vanished In a

Thunder Storm. He Awoke With A Start And Leaped From The Bed,  For There

Was A Loud Knocking At The Door And The Voice Of The Old Butler

Exclaiming,  "Master Arthur,  Master Arthur,  Miss Edith Desires Me To Say

That She Is Going To Ride Over To The Willows This Bright Morning And

Wishes To Know If You Would Like To Accompany Her; She Is Now On The

Lawn."

"Thank You,  Thank You,  Reynolds. My Compliments To Miss Effingham,  And

Say I Shall Be Most Happy To Be Her Escort On The Occasion," And

Hurriedly Dressing,  Was Soon By Her Side,  Laughing And Chatting Merrily

As They Cantered Over The Green Turf On Their Way To The Bartons. Yet

Arthur Could Not Altogether Dispel The Feelings That Arose Within Him,

Produced,  Doubtless,  By The Strange Dreams That Haunted His Pillow

During The Night,  Or Early That Morning.

"Is Not That Tom Barton?" Said Edith,  Pointing To The Figure Of A Man,

Dressed In Sporting Costume,  Seated On The Step Of A Stile,  Engaged In

Lighting A Small German Pipe,  His Gun Leaning Against One Of The

Uprights And Some Half Dozen Partridges Lying On The Grass At His Feet.

As They Rode Up,  Tom Advanced To Meet Them,  Raised His Hat Politely To

Edith,  And Shouted Out,  "Hallo Arthur,  Old Fellow,  How Are You. Glad To

Have You Back Amongst Us; Not Much Fun In Tramping Through The Turnip

Fields Alone,  Although The Birds Are By No Means Scarce This Season."

"Thank You,  I Intend To Be Amongst Them,  And Together,  I Think We Can

Do Some Execution. How Are The Ladies At The Willows? And Is Pretty

Little Cousin Kate As Capricious As Ever?" And Here Carlton Gave His

Friend A Poke In The Ribs With His Riding Whip.

Edith Laughed Heartily At The Sallie; For His Attachment To The Lady In

Question Was No Secret To Her. Tom Parried His Friend'S Enquiries As

Best As He Could,  And The Trio Proceeded At A Walk In The Best Possible

Good Humour.

On Reaching The Willows They Found Tom'S Sisters And Kate Cotterell On

The Gallery. Their Approach Had Been Observed By Old Mrs. Barton,  From

The Window Of The Breakfast Room. They Were Received With A Shower Of

Welcomes,  For Both Edith And Arthur Were General Favourites With All The

Neighbouring Families,  And Especially So At The Bartons.

Of Course,  Arthur'S Appointment And Approaching Departure For India Was

Communicated; All Were Pleased To Hear Of His Good Fortune,  Though Sorry

To Lose His Society.

"You Will,  Of Course,  Call Upon Horace And Pauline When You Reach

Calcutta," Suggested Old Mrs. Barton,  "I Dare Say You May Not Recollect

Him,  But He Will Remember You,  Although You Were But A Curly-Headed Boy

When He Was Last In england. You Must Take Out Some Letters From Us To

Them."

Edith Had A Hurried Conversation With Kate Cotterell,  Julia And Emily

Barton,  On Some Little Project Of Her Own. This Being Finished,  She

Beckoned To Arthur,  Who Was Smoking And Arranging Some Matters With Tom

Barton At The Other End Of The Gallery; Then Mounting Their Horses They

Rode Slowly Back To Vellenaux,  In Time To Breakfast With Sir Jasper,  Who

Was,  By No Means,  An Early Riser.

With Shooting,  (With Tom Barton And Some Half Dozen Other College

Chums,) Visiting His Acquaintances,  And Taking Long Rides Through The

Beech Woods And Over The Downs With Edith,  Who Was An Excellent

Equestrian,  For His Companion,  The First Six Weeks Of Arthur'S Return

Passed Pleasantly And Rapidly Away. He Then Had To Post Up To London To

Get Measured For His Uniform,  And General Outfit,  To Say Nothing Of The

Numberless Commissions Which He Had Been Entrusted To Execute By His

Lady Acquaintances,  In View Of The Approaching Fancy Ball. Being His

First Visit To The Metropolis,  Arthur Determined To See And Hear All

That Could Be And Seen Heard During His Short Stay In That Wonderful

City.

Jack Frost,  With His Usual Attendant And Companion,  Snow,  Heralded The

Approach Of Old Father Christmas,  Who Filed An Appearance At Vellenaux

On The Morning Of The Twenty-Fifth Of December,  And Right Heartily Was

The Old Fellow Welcomed. His Advent Had Been Announced At Daybreak,  By

Discharges From An Old-Fashioned Field Piece Which Bridoon (With The

Permission Of His Old Commander) Had Mounted On A Wooden Carriage To

Commemorate His Peninsular Victories,  While The Bell Ringers Rang Out A

Merry Peal From The Belfry Of The Quaint Old Church In The Little

Village Hard By. Then Came Troops Of Merry,  Laughing Children,  Singing

And Chanting Old Christmas Carols,  And Were Rewarded By The Old

Housekeeper With A Piping Hot Breakfast Of Mince Pies,  Etc.,  Etc.

After Morning Service In The Church,  Which Was Numerously Attended,  The

Laborers And Many Of The Poorer Tenants Of The Estate Were Regaled With

Roast Beef And Plum Pudding,  Good Old October Ale And Mighty Flagons Of

That Cider For Which Devonshire Is So Justly Celebrated. During The

Evening There Was A Dance And Supper In The Servants' Hall,  To Which

Many Of The Small Farmers With Their Wives,  Sons And Daughters,  Had Been

Invited,  And A Right Jovial Time They Had Of It. Dancing,  Songs,  Scenes

From The Magic Lantern,  Hunt The Slipper,  Blind Man'S Buff,  Kissing

Under The Mistletoe,  And Many Other Christmas Gambols Were The Order Of

The Evening,--And,  If One Might Judge From The Bursts Of Mirth And

Laughter That Prevailed,  This Was Very Much To The Satisfaction Of All

Present.

The Worthy Baronet,  Attended By Edith And Arthur,  Visited His Work

People During The Dinner In The Great Barn,  Addressing Words Of Welcome

And Kindness To All,  Nor Did He Absent Himself From The Merry-Makings In

The Servants' Hall.

"Attention,  Form A Line There!" Shouted Old Bridoon,  The Lodge Keeper,

Who Was The Sir Oracle Of The Hour,  And Had Seated Himself In a Large

Arm Chair Beside The Enormous Fireplace,  Wherein The Yule Logs Burnt

Brightly,  Darting Out Forked Flames Of Blue,  Yellow,  And Crimson,  And

Sending Forth Great Showers Of Sparks Up The Huge Old-Fashioned Chimney

Like Fire-Works On A Gala Night.

"Make Way There For The Brigadier And His Handsome Aides-De-Camp." The

Sharp Eye Of The Old Campaigner Had Caught Sight Of The Party From The

Drawing Room,  Which Had Halted In The Door Way And Was Looking On Highly

Amused At The Merry Groups That Were Footing It Bravely,  And With

Untiring Energy Through The Mazes Of Irish Jigs,  Scotch Reels And

English Country Dances. On Entering,  The Mirth Ceased For A Moment Out

Of Respect To Sir Jasper. "Go On,  My Good Friends,  We Came To Witness,

Not To Put A Stop To Your Amusement," Said The Baronet,  As He Took A

Seat In The Chimney Corner,  Supported By Edith And Arthur. The Dancing

Was Again Resumed In about Half An Hour,  And The Party Rose To Retire.

Here Reynolds,  The Old Butler,  Presented His Master With A Magnum Of His

Favorite Port,  Which The Old Gentleman Tossed Off,  Wishing Them All A

Merry Christmas. This Was The Moment For Which Bridoon Had Been Waiting;

He Rose And Proposed The Health Of Sir Jasper,  Miss Edith,  And Master

Arthur,  And Said,  "When Lying Wounded On The Bloody Field Of Salamanca

Little Did I Think That I Should Live To Enjoy So Many Years Of Peace

And Comfort In Such Snug Quarters As Is Now Provided For Me By My Old

Commander And Benefactor,  God Bless Him," Then Addressing Arthur He

Said,  "Master Arthur,  It Does My Old Heart Good To Know That You Have

Entered Her Majesty'S Service. You Are A Good Swordsman,  A Bold Rider

('And The Best Shot In The Country,' Put In The Head Game-Keeper),  No

Mean Qualifications," Continued He,  "For A Light Dragoon; And I Feel

Certain You Will Turn Out As Fine A Soldier As The Colonel,  Your

Father,--I Drink To His Memory And Your Success." Whereupon The Veteran

Raised A Massive Tankard Of Sparkling Cider To His Lips And Took A

Mighty Draught,  Which Laudable Example Was Immediately Followed By All

The Men Present. The Baronet And His _Proteges_ Then Left The Hall.

There Was Open House To All Comers Until After The New Year,  And In This

Way Christmas Had Been Kept Up In That Part Of Devonshire From Time

Immemorial.

But The Great Event Of The Season To The Upper Tandem Of Vellenaux,  And

Its Vicinity Was The Approaching Twelfth-Night Ball. Sir Jasper Had

Given _Carte Blanche_ To His Niece To Do As She Pleased On The Occasion

And She Did So Accordingly.