Cruel as the graveSouthworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
General
Cruel as the grave
Southworth, Emma Dorothy Eliza Nevitte
American fiction -- 19th century
As the carriage rolled easily along the avenue, now thickly carpeted
with forest leaves, and as it approached the house, the fine old
building, with its many gable ends and curiously twisted chimneys, its
steep roofs and latticed windows--all monuments of the old colonial
days--came more and more distinctly into view from its background of
mountains. Lights were gleaming from upper and lower and all sorts of
windows, and the whole aspect of the grand old hospitable mansion
proclaimed, "WELCOME."
CHAPTER IX.
THE GUEST-CHAMBERS.
Deserted rooms of luxury and state,
Which old magnificence had rudely furnished
With pictures, cabinets of ancient date,
And carvings, gilt and burnished,--HOOD.
The carriage drew up at the foot of a flight of stone steps, leading to
the front entrance of the house. The double oak doors stood wide open,
showing the lighted hall and a group of people waiting.
Sybil looked eagerly from the carriage window.
"I do declare," she exclaimed, "if there is not, not only Miss Tabby,
but Miss Libby and Mrs. Winterose besides; Mrs. Winterose," she
explained, turning to her guest, "is the widow of our late land steward.
She is also my foster-mother, and the mother of the two maiden ladies,
Miss Tabby, who is our housekeeper, and Miss Libby, who lives with the
widowed parent at home. They have come to welcome us back. Heaven bless
them!"
As Sybil spoke, Mr. Berners dropped down from his perch on the
coachman's box, and opened the carriage door.
He assisted first his wife, and then their guest, to alight. And then he
took the sleeping child from the nurse's arms, while she herself got
out.
"You know the way, dearest Sybil! Run on before, and I will take charge
of our fair friend," said Mr. Berners, as he gave his arm to Mrs.
Blondelle to lead her up the steps.
But Sybil had not waited for this permission. Too eager to meet the dear
old friends of her childhood to care for any one else just then, or even
to feel a twinge of jealousy at the words and actions of her husband,
she flew past him up the stairs and into the arms of her foster-mother,
who folded the beautiful, impetuous creature to her bosom, and welcomed
her home with heartfelt emotion.
Miss Tabby and Miss Libby next took their turns to be embraced and
kissed.
And then the old servants crowded around to welcome their beloved young
mistress; to every one of them she gave a cordial grasp of her hand, and
loving words.
"It is very delightful," she said, with tears of joy in her eyes, "it is
very, very delightful to be so warmly welcomed home."
"Everything as well as everybody welcomes you home, Miss Sybil! Even the
Black Torrent! I never heard the cascade sing so loud and merry as it
does to-night!" said Old Abe, or Father Abraham, as he was called, for
being a full centenarian, and the oldest negro, by twenty years, of any
on the estate.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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