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

Its Honoured Mistress. There Were Associations Connected With It That

Could Not Be Effaced By All The Gaieties Of The Most Magnificent Courts

Of Europe. Arthur Too Was Somewhat Tired Of The Exciting Life They Had

Led For Some Months Past,  And Was Anxious To Re-Visit The Quiet Spot

Where The Happiest Years Of His Early Life Had Been Spent; Accordingly

They Left London For Their Old Home Among The Beech Woods Of Devon.

The Day Of High Jubilee,  The Day Of Feasting And Merriment,  Such As Had

Never Been Witnessed In Vellenaux By Its Oldest Inhabitant,  At Length

Arrived. High And Low,  Rich And Poor Of The Village And For Miles

Around,  Turned Out In Holiday Costume To Witness The Return Of Edith And

Arthur To Their Childhood'S Happy Home. Triumphal Arches Of Eve Greens

And Flags Had Been Erected At Different Places Between Switchem Station

And The Park Gates. The Two Troops Of Volunteer Cavalry That Had Been

Raised From Among The Tenantry Of Carlton Abbey And Vellenaux,  Armed And

Equipped At The Expense Of The Earl And Countess,  Already Licked Into

Something Like Order And Discipline By The Non-Commissioned Officers Of

The Regular Service,  Procured Through Arthur'S Interest At The Horse

Guards,  Lined Both Sides Of The Road Between The Arches. Several Bands

Of Music,  Sent Down From London,  Were Stationed In different Parts Of

The Grounds,  And Enlivened The Scene By Playing Many Of The Most Popular

Airs Of The Day. A Deputation Of About One Hundred Gentlemen And

Well-To-Do Farmers,  All Mounted,  And Headed By The Lord Lieutenant Of

The County,  Met The Happy Couple As They Stepped From The Platform Into

Their Open Barouche,  With Its Four Prancing And Gaily Decorated Horses,

Which Was In Waiting At The Switchem Station. After Several Addresses

Had Been Read And Replied To,  The Cortege Passed Slowly On Towards

Vellenaux,  The Cavalry Filing In Rear And The Gay Holiday Seekers

Following As Best They Could. On Arriving At The Principal Entrance The

Party Alighted,  The Host And Hostess,  And Their Invited Guests Proceeded

To The Grand Hall,  Where A Magnificent Collation Awaited Them. The

Remainder Spread Themselves Over The Grounds And Park,  Where,  Beneath

The Outspreading Branches Of The Fine Old Trees,  Were Placed Benches,

Beside Tables Groaning Under The Weight Of Enormous Sirloins,  Rounds Of

Beef,  And Pies Of Mighty Dimensions,  With Sweet Home-Made Broad,  And

Other Edibles Of Various Descriptions. Tents Were Pitched Here And

There,  Where Also Could Be Obtained,  All Free,  Gratis And For Nothing,

Fine Old October Ale,  Rich Sparkling Cider,  Clotted Cream,  Curds And

Whey,  Tea And Coffee,  And Confectionery In Great Abundance. Feasting And

Merriment Being The Order Of The Day.

Games Of Various Kinds Were Entered Into With Such Alacrity And Good

Will,  Proving How Thoroughly They Were Enjoyed By Both Participants And

Lookers On. Cricket,  Pitching The Quoit,  And Foot Ball Was Going On In

One Part Of The Grounds,  Single Stick; And Quarter Staff Playing,  And

Wrestling Matches Between The Men Of "Merrie Sherwood," Nottingham,  And

The Yeomen Of Devon In another.

There Were Also Foot Races And A Variety Of Other Amusements Taking

Place In The Home Park,  While The Votaries Of Terpsichore Tripped It

Gaily On The Green,  Velvety Award Beneath The Grand Old Oaks; And Not A

Few Of The Lads And Lasses Betook Themselves Down The Green,  Shady

Alleys To The Woods In Search Of Blackberries,  Or To Gather Bunches Of

Clustering Hazel-Nuts. The Intimate Friends Of The Lady Of Vellenaux

Amused Themselves With Archery And Croquet On The Lawn,  And Strolled

About The Grounds Watching The Tenantry And Others In Their Pursuit Of

Pleasure. All The Servants And Retainers,  For None Had Been Discharged,

Hailed With Delight The Return Of Their Young Mistress And Her Handsome

Husband,  For Both Were Alike Looked Up To And Respected For Their Many

Amiable Qualities,  By Those Among Whom They Had Been Brought Up Since

Childhood. The Two Old Veterans,  Bridoon And Tom The Game Keeper,  Had,

In Honor Of The Occasion,  Donned Their Uniforms And Were The Big Guns Of

The Evening,  Presiding,  As They Did,  At The Upper Ends Of The Tables

Where The Volunteer Cavalry Were Regaling Themselves To Their Heart'S

Content On The Good Things Provided For Them.

The Day'S Festivities Were Closed With A Grand Display Of Fire Works,

And Bonfires Were Lit In Many Places,  Which Crackled And Sent Upwards

Millions Of Bright Sparks,  To The Intense Delight Of The Juvenile

Portion Of The Community. The Long Rooms In The Two Public Houses,  In

The Village,  Were Thrown Open For Dancing. The Servants' Hall,  And The

Two Great Barns At Vellenaux Were Also Decorated And Arranged For The

Same Purpose,  And A Right Joyous Time Was There Kept Up,  Almost Until

The Dawn Of Day.

Within The Time-Honoured Walls,  In One Of The Superb And Luxuriously

Furnished Apartments Of Vellenaux,  Did Edith And Arthur,  On This,  The

First Night Of Their Return,  Entertain The Bartons,  Cotterells,

Ashburnhams,  Denhams,  And A Large Circle Of Acquaintances. It Was Not A

Ball,  Not Exactly A Conversazione,  But A Sort Of Happy Re-Union,  An

Assemblage Of Old Friends And Familiar Faces,  Many Of Whom,  Had,  To A

Certain Extent,  Participated In The Joys And Sorrows That Had Attended

Their Host And Hostess From Their Youth Upwards,  And,  As This Pleasing

Picture Fades From View,  Let Us Take A Perspective Glance Through A

Pleasant Vista Of Progressive Years,  At Another Equally Interesting

Tableaux,  Whose Back Ground And Surroundings Are The Same As The

Previous One. Vellenaux,  That Magnificent Pile Of Buildings,  With Its

Beautiful And Varied Styles Of Architecture,  Embosomed,  As It Were,  In

The Rare Old Woods Of Devon,  Its Parks And Wondrous Parterres,  Its

Fountains,  Marble Terraces And Statuary,  All Brought Out In bold Relief

By The Glorious Golden Light Of A Summer'S Setting Sun.

On A Spacious Terrace Of The Western Wing,  Whose Broad Steps Of Fine

Italian Marble Led Down To The Clear,  Open,  Finely Gravelled Walk That

Surrounded A Beautiful And Well Kept Lawn,  Were Grouped,  In Various

Positions,  A Number Of Ladies,  Gentlemen,  And Children,  With All Of

Whom,  The Juveniles Excepted,  The Reader Is Already Acquainted.

The Earl Of Castlemere,  With His Beautiful Countess Leaning Lovingly On

His Arm,  Are Pacing Leisurely Up And Down Among The Assembled Guests,

Exchanging Here And There Words Of Courteous Pleasantry. Lounging Over

The Back Of A Handsome Fautiel,  Colonel Snaffle,  Of The Lancers,  Is

Conversing With Pauline Barton,  In His Usual Gay And Lively Manner,

Relating To Some Reminiscence Which Occurred To Them While Dwelling On

The Sunny Plains Of Hindostan. Horace Barton,  Aunt Cotterell And The

Rev. Charles Denham Were Discussing Some Knotty Point Concerning High

And Low Church,  Etc.,  While Some Political Question Was Evidently

Exciting The Minds Of The Worthy Old Stockbroker,  Dr. Ashburnham,  And

Tom Barton. The Good Natured Draycott Was Exhausting His Powers Of

Pleasing By Relating To Mrs. Ashburnham,  Her Sister Emily And Pretty

Cousin Kate,  The Last _On Dit_ Going The Rounds Of The Fashionable

Circles At The Metropolis.

Light-Hearted,  Happy Children Gamboled On The Broad Marble Steps,  Or

Seated On Soft Cushions At Their Parents' Feet,  Listened To The

Sparkling Wit,  Repartee And Agreeable Rattle That Broke Forth Among The

Gay Loungers On The Terrace. Occasionally The Eyes Of The Whole Party

Would Rest With Admiration And Pride On The Scene Enacting Before Them,

And Well They Might,  For On The Smooth,  Soft,  Velvet-Like Sward Of The

Croquet Lawn,  Eight Youthful Figures,  The Eldest Scarcely Sixteen,  Were

Engaged In That Most Exhilarating,  Delightful And Exciting Of All Out

Door Amusements,  The Game Of Croquet.

The Lady Eglentine Carlton,  Eldest Daughter Of The Countess Of

Castlemere,  A Tall,  Graceful Girl,  Inheriting All Her Mother'S Soft

Beauty Of Form And Features,  Stood With Her Small,  Exquisitely Shaped

Foot Resting On A Bright,  Blue Ball,  Evidently Listening To Some

Suggestion Of Her Partner,  Clarence Ashburnham,  Preparatory To Giving

The Final Stroke That Would Croquet Her Adversary'S Ball To A

Considerable Distance. Not Far Off Stood,  In an Easy Position,  The

Earl'S Handsome Son And Heir,  Lord Adolphus Carlton,  Mallet In Hand,

Explaining To Pretty Alice Denham,  The Rector'S Daughter,  What Effect On

The Game His Sister'S Stroke Would Have If Correctly Given. Kate Barton,

The Little Golden-Haired Fairy,  As She Was Called Generally,  Is

Chatting Merrily With The Honourable Eustace Carlton,  A Noble,

Aristocratic Looking Youth,  With Chestnut Curls And The Bright,  Flashing

Eyes Of The Earl,  His Father,  Declaring With Great Animation That Their

Side Must Win,  While Maud Ashburnham,  The Physician'S Dark-Haired

Daughter,  A Sparkling Brunette,  Full Of Life And Vivacity,  Announces To

Her Partner,  Alfred Arthur Denham,  That Her Next Stroke Shall Carry Her

Through The Last Hoop,  This Will Make Her A Rover,  And She Will Then

Come To His Assistance; And Thus The Game Progressed,  First In Favor Of

One Side And Then The Other,  Till At Length A Splendid Stroke From The

Youthful Lady Eglentine'S Mallet,  Put Her Own And Her Partner'S Ball

Through The Last Wire Arch,  Placing Them In a Triumphant Position,

Amidst Shouts Of Applause From Their Own Side.

The Game Was Now Nearly Over,  For The Bright Orb Of Day Had Already Sank

Behind The Distant Hills,  And The Silvery Crescent Of The Summer'S Young

Moon Had Risen Above The Tops Of The Tall Chestnuts And Was Shooting

Forth Her Rays Of Soft,  Pale Light,  Rendering All Objects Shadowy And

Indistinct,  While The Gently Deepening Purple Shades Of Eve,  And The

Gray Mists Of Twilight Were Fast Closing In and Around The Happy Group,

Hiding From Further View,  As It Were,  With A Veil Of Soft,  Fleecy

Clouds,  The Family And Fortunes Of Arthur,  Earl Of Castlemere,  And His

Beautiful Countess,  Edith,  The Lady Of Vellenaux.