Nobility -- Great Britain -- Fiction; Wessex (England) -- Fiction; Women -- England -- Fiction
I would have you know, then, that a great many years ago there lived in a
classical mansion with which I used to be familiar, standing not a
hundred miles from the city of Melchester, a lady whose personal charms
were so rare and unparalleled that she was courted, flattered, and spoilt
by almost all the young noblemen and gentlemen in that part of Wessex.
For a time these attentions pleased her well. But as, in the words of
good Robert South (whose sermons might be read much more than they are),
the most passionate lover of sport, if tied to follow his hawks and
hounds every day of his life, would find the pursuit the greatest torment
and calamity, and would fly to the mines and galleys for his recreation,
so did this lofty and beautiful lady after a while become satiated with
the constant iteration of what she had in its novelty enjoyed; and by an
almost natural revulsion turned her regards absolutely netherward,
socially speaking. She perversely and passionately centred her affection
on quite a plain-looking young man of humble birth and no position at
all; though it is true that he was gentle and delicate in nature, of good
address, and guileless heart. In short, he was the parish-clerk's son,
acting as assistant to the land-steward of her father, the Earl of Avon,
with the hope of becoming some day a land-steward himself. It should be
said that perhaps the Lady Caroline (as she was called) was a little
stimulated in this passion by the discovery that a young girl of the
village already loved the young man fondly, and that he had paid some
attentions to her, though merely of a casual and good-natured kind.
Since his occupation brought him frequently to the manor-house and its
environs, Lady Caroline could make ample opportunities of seeing and
speaking to him. She had, in Chaucer's phrase, 'all the craft of fine
loving' at her fingers' ends, and the young man, being of a
readily-kindling heart, was quick to notice the tenderness in her eyes
and voice. He could not at first believe in his good fortune, having no
understanding of her weariness of more artificial men; but a time comes
when the stupidest sees in an eye the glance of his other half; and it
came to him, who was quite the reverse of dull. As he gained confidence
accidental encounters led to encounters by design; till at length when
they were alone together there was no reserve on the matter. They
whispered tender words as other lovers do, and were as devoted a pair as
ever was seen. But not a ray or symptom of this attachment was allowed
to show itself to the outer world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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