Lewis Arundel; Or, The Railroad Of LifeSmedley, Frank E. (Frank Edward)
General
Lewis Arundel; Or, The Railroad Of Life
Smedley, Frank E. (Frank Edward)
English fiction -- 19th century
Weeks passed on; the wound in Lewis’s shoulder healed, despite the
aggravating attendance of Doctors Scalpel and Bistoury, and with youth
and health on his side he speedily regained his accustomed vigour.
General Grant’s recovery was a matter of greater difficulty. The
fracture had been by no means easily reduced, and the process by which
the bones re-united was a long and tedious one. His accident (as is
usually the case with such events) had occurred at a most inconvenient
moment. While he was yet confined to his room the election for the
county came on, and his opponent, taking advantage of his absence
to undermine his influence with the voters, was returned by a large
majority. The bribery by which he had obtained his seat was, however, a
matter of such notoriety, that, by De Grandeville’s advice, the General
was induced to petition Parliament to annul the election. The petition
failed, and the expenses, which, from the prolonged proceedings, were
unusually heavy, all fell upon the unsuccessful candidate. During the
progress of the affair, Lewis, by the General’s wish, acted as his
amanuensis and private secretary, a confidential servant being engaged
to wait on Walter and attend him during his rides, thus relieving his
tutor of much that was irksome in his situation. The London season was
at its height before General Grant had recovered sufficiently to leave
Broadhurst, but a fortnight before the day on which Charles Leicester’s
wedding was fixed to take place Annie and her father started for the
great metropolis.
During his attendance on the General, Lewis had been thrown much into
Annie’s society, and their intimacy had deepened, on the lady’s side,
into feelings of the warmest esteem and friendship, while the gentleman
became more and more convinced that his previous estimate of the fair
sex was a completely mistaken one, and altogether to be condemned as
the weakest and most fallacious theory that ever entered the brain of a
hot-headed boy--by which opprobrious epithet he mentally stigmatised his
six-months-ago self--and for at least a week after she had departed he
felt as if something had gone wrong with the sun, so that it never shone
properly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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