Devereux — CompleteLytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
History
Devereux — Complete
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
Great Britain -- History -- Anne, 1702-1714 -- Fiction
“Why,” replied the knight, suddenly recollecting his reverence to the
fair sex, “he is your mother’s guest, not mine; we must refer the matter
to her. But zauns, Sir, with all deference to her ladyship, we cannot
suffer our house to be a conspiracy-hatch as well as a popish chapel;
and to attempt your life too--the devil! Ods fish, boy, I will go to
the countess myself, if you will just let Nicholls finish my wig,--never
attend the ladies _en deshabille_,--always, with them, take care of
your person most, when you most want to display your mind;” and my
uncle ringing a little silver bell on his dressing-table, the sound
immediately brought Nicholls to his toilet.
Trusting the cause to the zeal of my uncle, whose hatred to the
ecclesiastic would, I knew, be an efficacious adjunct to his diplomatic
address, and not unwilling to avoid being myself the person to acquaint
my mother with the suspected delinquency of her favourite, I hastened
from the knight’s apartment in search of Aubrey. He was not in the
house. His attendants (for my uncle, with old-fashioned grandeur of
respect, suitable to his great wealth and aristocratic temper, allotted
to each of us a separate suite of servants as well as of apartments)
believed he was in the park. Thither I repaired, and found him, at
length, seated by an old tree, with a large book of a religious cast
before him, on which his eyes were intently bent.
“I rejoice to have found thee, my gentle brother,” said I, throwing
myself on the green turf by his side; “in truth you have chosen a
fitting and fair place for study.”
“I have chosen,” said Aubrey, “a place meet for the peculiar study I am
engrossed in; for where can we better read of the power and benevolence
of God than among the living testimonies of both? Beautiful--how very
beautiful!--is this happy world; but I fear,” added Aubrey, and the glow
of his countenance died away,--“I fear that we enjoy it too much.”
“We hold different interpretations of our creed then,” said I, “for I
esteem enjoyment the best proof of gratitude; nor do I think we can pay
a more acceptable duty to the Father of all Goodness than by showing
ourselves sensible of the favours He bestows upon us.”
Aubrey shook his head gently, but replied not.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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