Arrah Neil; or, Times of OldJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
Arrah Neil; or, Times of Old
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
From the hall, which felt chilly and damp, as if the door of the house
had seldom been opened to the sunshine and free air, the earl
conducted his companion up a flight of stone steps, and through some
wide, unfurnished corridors, to a part of the house which presented a
more cheerful and habitable appearance, giving a glance from time to
time at the countenance of Miss Walton, as if to see what effect the
desolate aspect of the place would have upon her. Absorbed in other
contemplations, however, she took no notice, and at length the
cavalier called her attention to it himself, saying with a faint and
somewhat sad smile--
"You see, Miss Walton, what effect neglect can have. During my long
absence from England everything has fallen into decay--more indeed in
this house than in my dwelling in the north; but yet I reproach myself
for having given way to the very mingled feelings that kept me from
residing on my own land and amongst my own people. It is not indeed
the ruin and desolation that falls upon one's property which a man
ought to mind under such circumstances; but when a wealthy family
dwell in the midst of their own tenantry, they build up a better
mansion than any that is raised with hands, a nobler home than the
lordly castle or the splendid palace--I mean that which is founded in
the love and affection of friends and dependants, ornamented with
kindly feelings and mutual benefits, obligations, gratitude, and
esteem. And this is the house which falls into more horrible decay
during a long absence than any of these things of brick or stone."
"I fear indeed it is so," said Miss Walton, walking on beside him into
a large and handsome room, not only well furnished, but presenting
some most beautiful pictures of the Italian school hanging upon the
walls, while objects of _vertù_ and instruments of music lay scattered
over numerous tables, many of which were in themselves excessively
costly.
"But it seems to me, my lord," she continued, "that in some respects
your house and yourself are very much alike, though perhaps it is bold
of me to say so; but now that I know whom you really are, I feel as
much inclined to look upon you as an old friend as you did in regard
to me when first we met."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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