On the road our ardent youth arranged in his head a noble scheme. He
would bring Peggy Black home with him, compensating her liberally for
the place she would thereby lose: would confront her privately with his
father, and convince him it was his interest to restore the Dodds their
money with a good grace, take the L. 5000 he had already offered, and
countenance the wedding by letting Jane be present at it. It was hard to
do all this in the time, but well worth trying for, and not impossible.
A two-horse fly is not a slow conveyance, and he offered the man a
guinea to drive fast; so that it was not nine o'clock when they reached
Silverton Grove House, a place Alfred had never heard of. This,
however, I may observe, was no wonder: for it had not borne that name a
twelve-month.
It was a large square mansion of red brick, with stone facings and
corners, and with balustrades that hid the garret windows. It stood in
its own grounds, and the entrance was through handsome iron gates, one
of which was wide open to admit people on foot or horseback. The flyman
got down and tried to open the other, but could not manage it. “There,
don't waste time,” said Alfred impatiently, “let me out.”
He found a notice under the bell, “Ring and enter.” He rang accordingly,
and at the clang the hall-door opened, as if he had pulled a porter
along with the bell; and a grey-haired servant out of livery stood on
the steps to receive him. Alfred hurried across the plat, which was
trimmed as neatly as a college green, and asked the servant if he could
see Margaret Black.
“Margaret Black?” said the man doubtfully: “I'll inquire, sir. Please to
follow me.”
They entered a handsome hall, with antlers and armour: from this a
double staircase led up to a landing with folding doors in the centre
of it; one of these doors was wide open like the iron gate outside. The
servant showed Alfred up the left-hand staircase, through the open door,
into a spacious drawing-room, handsomely though not gaily furnished and
decorated, but a little darkened by Venetian blinds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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