Nobility -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
Within the hotel commanding this outlook the landlord walked idly about
with his hands in his pockets, not in the least expectant of a visitor,
and yet unable to settle down to any occupation which should compensate
in some degree for the losses that winter idleness entailed on his
regular profession. So little, indeed, was anybody expected, that the
coffee-room waiter--a genteel boy, whose plated buttons in summer were as
close together upon the front of his short jacket as peas in a pod--now
appeared in the back yard, metamorphosed into the unrecognizable shape of
a rough country lad in corduroys and hobnailed boots, sweeping the snow
away, and talking the local dialect in all its purity, quite oblivious of
the new polite accent he had learned in the hot weather from the well-
behaved visitors. The front door was closed, and, as if to express still
more fully the sealed and chrysalis state of the establishment, a sand-
bag was placed at the bottom to keep out the insidious snowdrift, the
wind setting in directly from that quarter.
The landlord, entering his own parlour, walked to the large fire which it
was absolutely necessary to keep up for his comfort, no such blaze
burning in the coffee-room or elsewhere, and after giving it a stir
returned to a table in the lobby, whereon lay the visitors' book--now
closed and pushed back against the wall. He carelessly opened it; not a
name had been entered there since the 19th of the previous November, and
that was only the name of a man who had arrived on a tricycle, who,
indeed, had not been asked to enter at all.
While he was engaged thus the evening grew darker; but before it was as
yet too dark to distinguish objects upon the road winding round the back
of the cliffs, the landlord perceived a black spot on the distant white,
which speedily enlarged itself and drew near. The probabilities were
that this vehicle--for a vehicle of some sort it seemed to be--would pass
by and pursue its way to the nearest railway-town as others had done.
But, contrary to the landlord's expectation, as he stood conning it
through the yet unshuttered windows, the solitary object, on reaching the
corner, turned into the hotel-front, and drove up to the door.
It was a conveyance particularly unsuited to such a season and weather,
being nothing more substantial than an open basket-carriage drawn by a
single horse. Within sat two persons, of different sexes, as could soon
be discerned, in spite of their muffled attire. The man held the reins,
and the lady had got some shelter from the storm by clinging close to his
side. The landlord rang the hostler's bell to attract the attention of
the stable-man, for the approach of the visitors had been deadened to
noiselessness by the snow, and when the hostler had come to the horse's
head the gentleman and lady alighted, the landlord meeting them in the
hall.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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