Conduct of life -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; Parables
The words, the tone, the caressing hand on one side, the firm hand on
the bridle, were too much for the four-legged beauty. Won over by more
words, more pressure on the hateful bit (even though silver), and more
caressing patting on her glossy neck, she came gracefully down to earth
once more.
It seemed to Lady Flamington that the stranger had sprung up from
nowhere. As a matter of fact, he had sprung from the hansom behind, in
which he was following, at almost walking pace, these six prancing
treasures. Then just as the traffic was starting again he looked across
at her.
“You are not hurt,” said he. “I should have been bitterly sorry if that
had happened.”
For once her ladyship could find no words. She bowed, he raised his hat,
the procession moved along. Then she knitted her brows thoughtfully.
“He should have been sorry in either case,” she thought, and fell to
studying his face in her memory.
Meanwhile the six black horses had turned into Greensward Avenue, where
likewise at a quicker rate her ladyship’s carriage was progressing.
All the way to the spacious private stables at the rear of the private
grounds, Mr. Barringcourt, for it was he, led that most spoiled of all
spoilt animals, Starlight. The little boys followed admiringly, till the
big doors of the stable-yard closed cruelly upon them.
“That looks like a dook turned undertaker,” said one.
Rumour had spread a report that Camille Barringcourt was a twice married
gentleman, with a large family.
“How unlike poor Geoffrey Todbrook,” said the ladies, and sighed.
But rumour for once was entirely wrong. One bachelor was dead; another
succeeded him.
The new arrival settled quickly into his new home. Seeing it was already
furnished, that was but natural. His servants were all foreigners, dark,
tall, all very unlike the people on this side of Lucifram. Yet there was
an inexpressible charm, dignity, and quiet repose about them that
delighted and mystified everyone. Among them were some women,
parlourmaids, sewing-maids, and housemaids apparently.
Each one of these servants, men and women, dressed in black, faced with
deep red. It was a kind of uniform.
Now, a few words are needed as to the personal appearance of the Master
himself. In figure he was tall, athletic, graceful, broad-shouldered.
His hair was black and short, crisp at the ends, as Lady Flamington
noticed when he removed his hat. People called his face “odd.” It was
dark and swarthy, with a strong forehead, and black eyes which were
gloomy and deeply set. The nose was straight, bearing in its lines more
sensitive refinement than any other feature of his face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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