Coralie: Everyday Life Library No. 2Brame, Charlotte M.
General
Coralie: Everyday Life Library No. 2
Brame, Charlotte M.
Fiction
At five o'clock I started for Thornycroft, the nearest town to Crown
Anstey. The journey was not a very long one, but I took no heed of time.
Was it all a dream, or was I in reality going to take possession of a
new and magnificent home?
I reached the station--it was a large one. Thornycroft seemed to be a
thriving town. No one was there to meet me. I went to the nearest hotel
and ordered a carriage to Crown Anstey.
I can recall even now my ecstasy of bewilderment at the splendid woods,
the beautiful park, the pleasure gardens. How long was it since I had
felt tears rush warm to my eyes at the scent of the violets? Here were
lime trees and lindens, grand old oaks, splendid poplars, beech trees,
cedars, magnolias with luscious blossom, hawthorn, white and pink
larches budding, and all were mine--mine. Then from between the
luxuriant foliage I saw the tall, gray towers of a stately mansion, and
my whole heart went out to it as my future home.
The birds were singing, the sun shining; all nature was so beautiful and
bright that my very soul was enraptured.
Then I caught a glimpse of gold from the laburnums, of purple from the
lilacs, of white from the sweet acacia trees.
The carriage drove up a long grove of chestnut trees, and then for the
first time I saw Crown Anstey. The western sunbeams fell upon it. I
thought of that line of Mrs. Hemans:
"Bathed in light like floating gold."
They showed so clearly the dainty, delicate tracing, the large, arched
windows. The house itself was built in the old Elizabethan style. I
found afterward that it was called Crown Anstey because it had belonged
in former years to one of the queens of England. The Queen's Chamber was
the largest and best room in it. Report said that a royal head had often
lain there; that the queen to whom the house had belonged had spent many
of her sorrowful and happy hours there. The Queen's Terrace run all
along the western wing, and was shaded by whispering lime trees.
Afterward I found many relics of this ancient time of royal
possessions--antique, out-of-the-way things, with the crown and royal
arms of England upon them. I was not a little proud of these historical
treasures. A broad flight of steps led from the lawn to a broad porch.
As I passed under it I figured to myself the gorgeous splendor of other
days, when "knights and dames of high degree" had entered there.
An old butler, evidently an old family retainer, was the first person I
saw. He bowed low when I told him that I was Sir Edgar Trevelyan, "the
heir come to take possession."
I went through the magnificent house like a man in a dream. Could it be
possible that all this magnificence, all this grandeur, was mine? Mine,
these grand old rooms, with furniture and hangings that once served a
queen; mine, these superb pictures and statues, these gems of art, this
profusion of gold and silver plate? I laughed and cried in the same
breath. I make no pretensions to being a strong-minded hero, and I was
overcome.
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.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account