Great Britain -- History -- Charles I, 1625-1649 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Temperance -- Fiction
Consequently it created considerable surprise and excitement, when,
early in the summer--when Little Miss Primrose was just past five
years old--news came suddenly to the village that the young earl was
coming to spend the summer at the castle. The report proved true,
and once more lights shone out at night from the windows, and parties
of merry riders passed to and fro along the riverside, day after day,
and the villagers stood on their thresholds to see them pass, and
held their breath in mingled awe and admiration, as they recognised
the earl himself, gay and handsome as ever, riding with graceful
ease, and chatting carelessly with one and another of the friends
around him. He had a pleasant word and smile in return for every
carefully-lifted hat and well-dropped curtsey with which his people
greeted him, and more than this none of them expected. None of the
late lords of Bryn Afon had ever shown any more personal interest in
them than this courteous acknowledgment of their homage, always
faithfully tendered, at however long intervals. The only favoured
exception to this rule was Jack the boatman, but no one was jealous
of him, for as owner of the only boats which could be hired up the
river for a considerable distance, and as master of the Bryn Afon
fishing, he held an important position, and had been more than ever
revered since he had out of his own pocket built the bridge, which
had proved such a blessing to the neighbourhood. A man who had saved
enough money to build a bridge at the cost of £60 or £70, was a man
to be respected. So no one was jealous when it was rumoured that
young Lord Bryn Afon had resumed his boyhood's acquaintance with the
boatman, and went out boating or fishing with him every day, as he
had been wont to do in those few and far-between summers when the
late earl had brought him--a handsome, curly-headed boy--to the
castle for occasional visits. For the late earl had frequented the
castle rather more than his predecessors, and Jack could recall three
bright summer weeks in different years when the boy had been his
daily companion for a few merry days, and the hero of his now
departed wife and daughter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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