England -- Fiction; Gothic fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
About twelve o'clock next day Richard Arden showed himself at Mortlake.
It was a beautiful autumnal day, and the mellow sun fell upon a foliage
that was fading into russet and yellow. Alice was looking out from the
open window, on the noble old timber whose wide-spread boughs and
thinning leaves caught the sunbeams pleasantly. She had heard her
brother and his companion go down the stairs, and saw them, from the
window, walk quickly down the avenue, till the trees hid them from view.
She thought that some of the servants were up, and that the door was
secured on their departure; and the effect of the shock she had received
gradually subsiding, she looked to her next interview with her brother
for an explanation of the occurrence which had so startled her.
That interview was approaching; the cab drove up to the steps, and her
brother got out. Anxiously she looked, but no one followed him, and the
driver shut the cab-door. Sir Richard kissed his hand to her, as she
stood in the window.
From the hall the house opens to the right and left, in two suites of
rooms. The room in which Alice stood was called the sage-room, from its
being hung in sage-green leather, stamped in gold. It is a small room to
the left, and would answer very prettily for a card party or a
_tête-à-tête_. Alice had her work, her books, and her music there; she
liked it because the room was small and cheery.
The door opened, and her brother comes in.
"Good Dick, to come so early! welcome, darling," she said, putting her
arms about his neck, as he stooped and kissed her, smiling.
He looked very ill, and his smile was painful.
"That was an odd little visit I paid last night," said he, with his dark
eyes fixed on her, inquiringly she thought--"very late--quite
unexpected. You are quite well to-day?--you look flourishing."
"I wish I could say as much for you, Dick; I'm afraid you are tiring
yourself to death."
"I had some one with me last night," said Sir Richard, with his eye
still upon her; "I--I don't know whether you perceived that."
Alice looked away, and then said carelessly, but very gravely--
"I did--I saw Mr. Longcluse. I could not believe my eyes, Dick. You must
promise me one thing."
"What is that?"
"That he sha'n't come into this house any more--while I am here, I
mean."
"That is easily promised," said he.
"And what did he come about, Dick?"
"Oh! he came--he came--I thought I told you; he came about papers. I did
not tell you; but he has, after all, turned out very friendly. He is
going to do me a very important service."
She looked very much surprised.
The young man glanced through the window, to which he walked; he seemed
embarrassed, and then turning to her, he said peevishly--
"You seem to think, Alice, that one can never make a mistake, or change
an opinion."
"But I did not say so; only, Dick, I must tell you that I have such a
horror of that man--a _terror_ of him--as nothing can ever get over."
"I'm to blame for that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account