A Fair Mystery: The Story of a CoquetteBrame, Charlotte M.
General
A Fair Mystery: The Story of a Coquette
Brame, Charlotte M.
Fiction
On a bright summer's day, when the sun was shining on countless flowers,
when the white doves and birds of bright plumage fluttered among the
trees, it would have been impossible to have found a fairer home than
Linleigh Court. On this bright, cold winter's day it looked warm and
cheerful; the evergreens were all in perfection.
The journey had been a comfortable one, thanks to Earle. He had seen
that the travelers went first-class, which, notwithstanding the fifty
pounds, would never have occurred to Mark. He had attended to every
detail of comfort, liberally fed the guards and porters, in spite of the
printed regulations looking him in the face and forbidding any such
enormity.
When they reached Anderley station, there was a carriage with a coronet
on the panels, a smart coachman and footman awaiting them. Mark looked
aghast; the grandeur of the whole affair dismayed him; while Doris
stepped into the carriage with the dainty air and grace of one who had
always been accustomed to such luxuries. Then they drove through the
rich Kentish scenery until they came to the park. Mark first caught
sight of the tall towers of the Court from between the trees, and he
cried out in surprise:
"This is a magnificent place, Doris. I think it is even better than
Downsbury Castle."
"If you had seen the grand old Florentine, palaces, you would not think
much of either," said Doris, indifferently.
Whatever happened, she had made up her mind not to admire; they should
not find her easily surprised. Yet as the magnificent terraces, the
fountains, the superb building itself, came into sight, her heart
swelled higher and higher with vanity and gratified pride. No sweet
compunction or humility such as sometimes visits a monarch about to
ascend a throne came to her. No gratitude to Heaven that she was to
share in such glorious gifts; no resolve to make others the happier for
her happiness; nothing but a sudden elation, a vain, self-glorious
sensation, and contempt for the life she had left behind.
"So this is my father's house," she mused. "I have yet to see why he
has lived in this affluence, while I have been brought up as a farmer's
daughter?"
The two who were watching her wondered what brought that rapt expression
to that beautiful face. They little guessed the nature of her musings.
"I wish this was all over," said Mark, as the carriage drew up at the
stately entrance. "Only Heaven knows what we have to do now."
Doris laughed, a low, rippling laugh of perfect content; then the great
hall door was flung open, and they saw the magnificent interior, the
liveried servants, the shining armor, and Mark's heart sank within him.
Then he recovered himself a little, and when he looked around him, they
were all three standing in one of the most magnificent halls in England.
A servant was bowing before them, and Mark heard him say:
"My lord is anxiously expecting you; will you come this way?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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