|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 3
"I breathe again," says Dora Talbot affectedly.
"I shall traverse every inch of that old tower--haunted room and
all--before I am a week older," declares Florence defiantly. After which
she smiles at Adrian again, and follows the maid up the broad staircase
to her room.
By the end of the week many other visitors have been made welcome at the
castle; but none perhaps give so much pleasure to the young baronet as
Mrs. Talbot and her cousin.
Miss Delmaine, the only daughter and heiress of an Indian nabob, had
taken London by storm this past season; and not only the modern Babylon,
but the heart of Adrian Dynecourt as well. She had come home to England
on the death of her father about two years ago; and, having no nearer
relatives alive, had been kindly received by her cousin, the Hon. Mrs.
Talbot, who was then living with her husband in a pretty house in
Mayfair.
Six months after Florence Delmaine's arrival, George Talbot had
succumbed to a virulent fever; and his widow, upon whom a handsome
jointure had been settled, when the funeral and the necessary law
worries had come to an end, had intimated to her young cousin that she
intended to travel for a year upon the Continent, and that she would be
glad, that is--with an elaborate sigh--she would be a degree less
miserable, if she, Florence, would accompany her. This delighted
Florence. She was wearied with attendance on the sick, having done most
of the nursing of the Hon. George, while his wife lamented and slept;
and, besides, she was still sore at heart for the loss of her father.
The year abroad had passed swiftly; the end of it brought them to Paris
once more, where, feeling that her time of mourning might be decently
terminated, Mrs. Talbot had discarded her somber robes, and had put
herself into the hands of the most fashionable dress-maker she could
find.
Florence too discarded mourning for the first time, although her father
had been almost two years in his quiet grave amongst the Hills; and,
with her cousin, who was now indeed her only friend, if slightly
uncongenial, decided to return to London forthwith.
It was early in May, and, with a sensation of extreme and most natural
pleasure, the girl looked forward to a few months passed amongst the
best of those whom she had learned under her cousin's auspices to regard
as "society."
Dora Talbot herself was not by any means dead to the thought that it
would be to her advantage to introduce into society a girl, well-born
and possessed of an almost fabulous fortune. Stray crumbs must surely
fall to her share in a connection of this kind, and such crumbs she was
prepared to gather with a thankful heart.
But unhappily she set her affection upon Sir Adrian Dynecourt, with his
grand old castle and his princely rent-roll--a "crumb" the magnitude and
worth of which she was not slow to appreciate. At first she had not
deemed it possible that Florence would seriously regard a mere baronet
as a suitor, when her unbounded wealth would almost entitle her to a
duke. But "love," as she discovered later, to her discomfiture, will
always "find the way." And one day, quite unexpectedly, it dawned upon
her that there might--if circumstances favored them--grow up a feeling
between Florence and Sir Adrian that might lead to mutual devotion.
Yet, strong in the belief of her own charms, Mrs. Talbot accepted the
invitation given by Sir Adrian, and at the close of the season she and
Florence Delmaine find themselves the first of a batch of guests come to
spend a month or two at the old castle at Dynecourt.
Mrs. Talbot is still young, and, in her style, very pretty; her eyes are
languishing and blue as gentian, her hair a soft nut-brown; her lips
perhaps are not altogether faultless, being too fine and too closely
drawn, but then her mouth is small. She looks considerably younger than
she really is, and does not forget to make the most of this comfortable
fact. Indeed, to a casual observer, her cousin looks scarcely her
junior.
Miss Delmaine is tall, slender, _pos�e_ more or less, while Mrs. Talbot
is prettily rounded, _petite_ in every point, and nervously ambitious of
winning the regard of the male sex.
During the past week private theatricals have been suggested. Every one
is tired of dancing and music. The season has given them more than a
surfeit of both, and so they have fallen back upon theatricals.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|