Architects -- Fiction; Castles -- Conservation and restoration -- Fiction; Love stories; Wessex (England) -- Fiction
He fetched his drawing instruments, rods, sketching-blocks and other
articles from the field where they had lain, and was passing under the
walls with them in his hands, when there emerged from the outer archway
an open landau, drawn by a pair of black horses of fine action and
obviously strong pedigree, in which Paula was seated, under the shade of
a white parasol with black and white ribbons fluttering on the summit.
The morning sun sparkled on the equipage, its newness being made all the
more noticeable by the ragged old arch behind.
She bowed to Somerset in a way which might have been meant to express
that she had discovered her mistake; but there was no embarrassment in
her manner, and the carriage bore her away without her making any sign
for checking it. He had not been walking towards the castle entrance,
and she could not be supposed to know that it was his intention to enter
that day.
She had looked such a bud of youth and promise that his disappointment
at her departure showed itself in his face as he observed her. However,
he went on his way, entered a turret, ascended to the leads of the great
tower, and stepped out.
From this elevated position he could still see the carriage and the
white surface of Paula’s parasol in the glowing sun. While he watched
the landau stopped, and in a few moments the horses were turned, the
wheels and the panels flashed, and the carriage came bowling along
towards the castle again.
Somerset descended the stone stairs. Before he had quite got to the
bottom he saw Miss De Stancy standing in the outer hall.
‘When did you come, Mr. Somerset?’ she gaily said, looking up surprised.
‘How industrious you are to be at work so regularly every day! We didn’t
think you would be here to-day: Paula has gone to a vegetable show at
Markton, and I am going to join her there soon.’
‘O! gone to a vegetable show. But I think she has altered her--’
At this moment the noise of the carriage was heard in the ward, and
after a few seconds Miss Power came in--Somerset being invisible from
the door where she stood.
‘O Paula, what has brought you back?’ said Miss De Stancy.
‘I have forgotten something.’
‘Mr. Somerset is here. Will you not speak to him?’
Somerset came forward, and Miss De Stancy presented him to her friend.
Mr. Somerset acknowledged the pleasure by a respectful inclination of
his person, and said some words about the meeting yesterday.
‘Yes,’ said Miss Power, with a serene deliberateness quite noteworthy in
a girl of her age; ‘I have seen it all since. I was mistaken about you,
was I not? Mr. Somerset, I am glad to welcome you here, both as a friend
of Miss De Stancy’s family, and as the son of your father--which is
indeed quite a sufficient introduction anywhere.’
‘You have two pictures painted by Mr. Somerset’s father, have you not?
I have already told him about them,’ said Miss De Stancy. ‘Perhaps Mr.
Somerset would like to see them if they are unpacked?’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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