In Connection with the De Willoughby ClaimBurnett, Frances Hodgson
General
In Connection with the De Willoughby Claim
Burnett, Frances Hodgson
United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
For several days before the greatest excitement had prevailed at the
hotel. A pleasant air of mystery had prevailed over the preparations that
were being made. The rural proprietors of the two stores in which the
neighbourhood rejoiced were driven to distraction by constant demands
made upon them for articles and materials of which they had never before
heard, and which were not procurable within a hundred miles of the place.
Bedrooms were overflowing with dresses in process of alteration from
ordinary social aspects to marvellous combinations of imagination and
ingenuity, while an amiable borrowing and exchanging went on through all
the corridors.
On the day before the ball the Colonel's popularity reached its height.
As it was the time of a certain local election, there was held upon the
grounds a political meeting, giving such individuals as chose to avail
themselves of it the opportunity of expressing their opinions to the
assembled guests and the thirty or forty mountaineers who had suddenly
and without any warning of previous existence appeared upon the scene.
The Colonel had been one of the first called upon, and, to the delight of
his admirers, he responded at once with the utmost grace to the call.
When he ascended the little platform with the slow, light step which was
numbered among his chief attractions and stood before his audience for a
moment looking down at them gently and reflectively from under his
beautiful lashes, a throb of expectation was felt in every tender bosom.
His speech fell short of no desire, being decided to be simple
perfection. His soft voice, his quiet ease of movement, his eloquence,
were all that could be hoped for from mortal man. He mentioned with
high-bred depreciation the fact that he could not fairly call himself a
politician unless as any son of the fair South must be one at least at
heart, however devoid of the gifts which have made her greatest heard
from continent to continent. He was only one of the many who had at stake
their cherished institutions, the homes they loved, the beloved who
brightened those homes, and their own happiness as it was centred in
those homes, and irrevocably bound in that of the fairest land upon which
the fair sun shone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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