Vellenaux A Novel by Edmund William Forrest (booksvooks txt) 📕

Edith'S Eyes Flashed,  Her Beautiful Lips Curled In Scorn,  And Her Whole

Face Beamed With Intense Disgust,  And With A Voice Low And Deep She

Said,

"Have A Care,  Sir,  Beware How You Threaten The Niece Of Sir Jasper

Coleman. Before To-Morrow My Uncle Shall Be Made Acquainted With What

Has Just Passed,  And The Character Of The Man Who Has Partaken So Often

Of His Hospitality,  And Been Ever Treated With Kind Attention,  He Has

Yet To Learn How These Courtesies Have Been Returned," And Sweeping Past

Him With A Look Of Supreme Contempt,  Edith Was About To Pass On.

It Was Evident That He Had Gone Too Far And That She Was Not A Girl To

Be Intimidated By Anything That He Might Say,  And At Once Changed His

Tactics--For He Was An Excellent Actor--"Pardon Me,  Miss Effingham,  I

Know Not What I Am Saying,  I Am Mad. Yes,  Lady,  Mad! For Your Beauty

Like The Moon,  Makes All Men Mad,  Who Comes Within The Sphere Of Its

Attraction. Forgive Me For Thus Offending You." Edith Turned Towards

Him,  And With Calm Dignity Replied,  "Promise Me Never Again To Revert To

This Subject,  And In No Way Further Molest Me,  And What Has Just Passed

Shall Be Forgiven." He Gave The Required Promise. Edith Then Pursued Her

Way To The End Of The Conservatory,  Passed Through The Doorway,  And On

To The Terrace Where She Was Met By Her Uncle. He Observed Her

Heightened Color,  But As She Made No Complaint He Allowed It To Pass

Without Comment.

Ralph Coleman Stood For A Few Moments Irresolute. She Must,  He Thought,

Either Be Aware That Her Uncle Has Left Her Sole Heiress,  Or Else Is In

Love With Another,  Carlton Perhaps. Fool That I Was To Run So Great A

Risk,  And That,  At The Instigation Of That Scheming Woman. Should She

Say Aught To Her Uncle On This Matter,  It Would Ruin Me With Him. I Will

At Once Seek An Interview And Endeavour To Wheedle Him Out Of A Promise

To Make A Codicil In My Favor.

Failing In The Attempt To Secure The Hand Of The Beautiful Miss

Effingham,  And Not Daring To Risk Another Trial,  As It Might Spoil The

Plans He Had Been Contemplating Since Edith'S Dismissal Of Him,  He Had

Kept Shy Of That Young Lady During The Remainder Of His Stay,  And Prior

To His Departure For London,  He Had Contrived To Have A Long Interview

With The Baronet,  During Which He Very Ably Showed The Position That He

Would Hold Should The Baronetcy Eventually Descend To Him Who Was

Totally Unable To Support The Dignity Of The Rank That Would Thus Be

Thrust Upon Him. So Well And Ably Did He Argue This Point,  That Ere He

Left Vellenaux He Extorted A Sort Of Promise From Sir Jasper That He

Would Think The Matter Over And Make A Bequest In His Favor.

He Returned To His Office,  In deed Court,  Annoyed And Disheartened To A

Considerable Extent By The Failure Of His Designs As Far As Related To

Miss Effingham,  But His Wounded Vanity He Could Afford To Bear And Hide

Within His Own Breast,  As He Now Confidently Believed That Sir Jasper

Would Adopt The Suggestions He Had Made To Him,  And Settle,  At Least,

Two Or Three Thousand Per Annum On The Successor To The Baronetcy During

The Said Successor'S Life; And In This Frame Of Mind The Lawyer

Determined To De Vote Himself Entirely To His Profession,  And To Avoid

The Pretty Edith,  Mrs. Fraudhurst,  And Vellenaux,  Until The Present

Owner Should Have Been Gathered To His Fathers.

There Is Perhaps No Season Of The Year In The South Of England So

Pleasing To The Eye Or More Genial To The Corporeal Faculties Than That

Of Early Autumn,  Especially That Part Of Devonshire Which We Have

Selected For The Opening And Closing Scene Of Our Story. Vellenaux,  With

Its Varied And Picturesque Styles Of Architecture,  Embosomed,  As It

Were,  In Rich Woodlands,  With A Perfect Amphitheatre Of Hills On Three

Sides,  And Ever And Anon The Soft Breezes Of The Ocean Sweeping Over The

Downs,  And Through The Beech Woods On The Other. It Was,  Indeed,  A

Domain Of Which Any One Might Have Been Proud.

It Was A Lovely Evening,  The Sun Had Just Commenced To Dip Behind The

Crest Of The Adjacent Hills,  And Was Sending Its Golden Rays Through The

Bright Foliage Of The Trees And Down The Long Paths That Led To The

Woods Hard By. Edith Had Strolled,  Book In Hand,  To Her Favourite Knoll,

Beneath A Stately Elm,  And Was Engaged In Reading. Her Two Favourite

Dogs,  Fine Specimens Of The Italian Greyhound,  Chased Each Other In

Circles Which Gradually Grew Smaller Until It Brought Them To The Very

Feet Of Their Mistress. One Placed His Small Smooth Nose In The Little

White Hand That Was Thrown Carelessly On The Moss Grown Roots Beside

Her,  While The Other,  To Attract Her Attention,  Placed His Paw On The

Page She Was Reading And Looked Up In Her Face. Suddenly Their Ears

Elongated And Away They Bounded,  As The Noise Of Horses Hoofs Were Heard

Approaching In Her Direction,  Aroused Her From Her Recumbent Position,

As Julia Barton,  On Her Quiet Little Pony,  Trotted Up. She Was Off In an

Instant,  And Running Up To Her Friend,  Greeted Her In The Animated,

Lively Way,  As Was Her Custom When She Had Anything To Communicate That

She Thought Would Please Or Interest Her. "At Your Studies," She Said,

Taking Up The Volume That Edith Had Let Fall On Her Appearance. "Long

Engagements,  A Tale Of The Affghan War. Oh,  Oh,  Thinking Of Our Old

Playfellow Are We?" And The Merry Girl Laughed Heartily,  "We Shall Soon

Hear More Of Him,  For My Sister-In-Law,  Pauline,  Has Just Most

Unexpectedly Arrived,  And I Wish You To Know Her. She Is Very Charming

And Improves Wonderfully On Acquaintance,  Is Very Good-Natured,  And

Tells Such Funny Stories About The People She Lived Among,  And Has A

Great Deal To Say About Arthur Carlton. You Will Come To The Willows

To-Morrow,  Will You Not,  And Call On Her?" Edith Gave The Required

Assent,  And Julia,  Mounting Her Pony,  Cantered Down The Avenue To The

Lodge Gate,  Where She Was Joined By A Tall,  Gentlemanly Looking Man,

Mounted On A Small Bay Mare,  And The Two Walked Their Horses At An Easy

Pace Down The Green Lane In The Direction Of The Willows,  And Edith

Returned To The House In Time To Dress For Dinner,  Well Pleased With The

Prospect Of Hearing Something Of Him Who Was Scarcely Absent From Her

Thoughts For Any Great Length Of Time. She Did Not Attempt To Analyze

Her Feelings On The Subject. It Was Pleasant To Think Of Her Absent

Friend,  And That Was Sufficient For The Present.

Mr. Barton,  Sen.,  Or Old Mr. Barton As He Was Usually Styled,  For He Was

Upwards Of Eighty Years Of Age,  And Had Been Born In The House He Now

Occupied,  A Good Comfortable And Substantial,  But Old Fashioned

Dwelling,  Which Had Passed From Father To Son For Several Generations.

His Father Had Been What Is Termed A Gentleman Farmer,  And Attended

Personally To The Superintending Of His Acres. His Son,  The Present

Occupant,  Had Followed His Example. He Married Early In Life,  But The

Lady Of His Choice Died Young,  Leaving One Son To Remind The Sorrowing

Widower Of His Loss. This Was Horace Barton,  Whom We Have Already

Introduced; He Chose A Different Field For His Labors,  And Managed To

Secure,  While Yet Young,  On Appointment In India. Our Friend Tom And His

Two Sisters,  Julia And Emily,  Were The Result Of A Second Marriage,  And

Although There Was Every Comfort To Be Had,  And A Good Home For All

During The Life Of The Old Couple,  Yet It Was Absolutely Necessary That

Tom Should Make His Own Road Through Life,  And That The Girls Should,  By

Early Marriage,  Secure For Themselves Suitable Establishments,  As The

Willows Would Fall To Horace On The Death Of His Father,  And It Would

Not Be Many Years Before His Term Of Service In The East Would Expire,

And He Would Then,  Doubtless,  Return To England And Occupy The Old House

In Devonshire.

The Arrival Of Mrs. Horace Barton From Calcutta Had Been Quite

Unexpected At The Willows,  As No Preparatory Letter Had Announced Her

Intentions Or Arrival In england. Nevertheless She Found All Delighted

To Receive Her. She Had Spent The Most Of Her Visit To Europe In The Gay

Capitals Of Paris And London,  And A Couple Of Months Was All The Time

She Could Spare To Remain In devonshire.

On Her First Visit She Had Not Been Introduced To Miss Effingham,  And

Had Only Caught A Casual Glance At Her While Crossing The Lawn,  As Edith

Was Returning From A Visit To Julia Barton; But On This Occasion Was

Determined To Become Acquainted With Her,  And Find Out If She Really

Deserved The High Encomiums That Had Been Bestowed Upon Her By Arthur

Carlton. She Had Anticipated Seeing A Pretty Lively English Country

Girl,  But Was Totally Unprepared For The Brilliant Beauty And Perfectly

Self-Possessed Manners Of Edith,  And She Always Found An Attentive

Listener In Her To All She Had To Relate On The Subject Of India And

Arthur Carlton Whenever They Met,  Which Was Now Frequent,  For An

Introduction Had Taken Place Between Them Very Shortly After Her

Arrival,  And They Consequently Became On The Most Intimate And Friendly

Footing. The Magnificence Of The Ancestral Dwelling Of The Colemans,

With Its Parks,  Parterres And Grounds,  Was Quite A Novelty To Pauline

Barton,  And With Edith She Traversed The Long Corridors,  Picture

Galleries,  And Armories With Wonderment,  For They Contrasted Strangely

With The Pagodas,  Temples,  And Bungalows In The Country Where The

Greater Part Of Her Life Had Been Spent (For She Had Been Born There),

And She Thought That Edith'S Life Must Be One Of Never-Ending Delight,

And For A Time It Was So,  But A Sad Change Was About To Come Over The

Bright Spirit Of Her Dream Of Happiness For A Time,  And Perhaps For

Ever,  And Dash The Cup Of Joyous Light-Heartedness From Her Grasp.

The Event So Much Desired By The Man Of Law Took Place At A Much Earlier

Date Than Had Been Anticipated By That Gentleman,  Or,  Indeed,  By Any One

Of His Acquaintances As The