Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-dayBesant, Walter
General
Armorel of Lyonesse: A Romance of To-day
Besant, Walter
Fraud -- Fiction; Isles of Scilly (England) -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
one corner was a cupboard, the door standing open. No collector ever
came here to gaze upon the treasures unspeakable of cups and saucers,
plates and punch-bowls. On the mantelshelf were brass candlesticks and
silver candlesticks, side by side with 'ornaments' of china, pink and
gold, belonging to the artistic reign of good King George the Fourth.
On the hearthrug before the fire, which was always burning in this
room all the year round, lay an old dog sleeping.
Everybody knows the feeling of a room or a house belonging to the old.
Even if the windows are kept open, the air is always close. Rest, a
gentle, elderly angel, sits in the least frequented room with folded
wings. Sleep is always coming to the doors at all hours: for the sake
of Rest and Sleep the house must be kept very quiet: nobody must ever
laugh in the house: there is none of the litter that children make:
nothing is out of its place: nothing is disturbed: the furniture is
old-fashioned and formal: the curtains are old and faded: the carpets
are old, faded, and worn: it is always evening: everything belonging
to the house has done its work: all together, like the tenant, are
sitting still--solemn, hushed, at rest, waiting for the approaching
end.
The only young thing at Holy Hill was the girl at the window.
Everything else was old--the servants, the farm labourers, the house
and the furniture. In the great hooded arm-chair beside the fire
reposed the proprietor, tenant, or owner of all. She was the oldest
and most venerable dame ever seen. At this time she was asleep: her
head had dropped forward a little, but not much; her eyes were closed;
her hands were folded in her lap. She was now so very ancient that she
never left her chair except for her bed; also, by reason of her great
antiquity, she now passed most of the day in sleep, partly awake in
the morning, when she gazed about and asked questions of the day. But
sometimes, as you will presently see, she revived again in the
evening, became lively and talkative, and suffered her memory to
return to the ancient days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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