Women -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction
Again, some years after, he had appeared among them. He was then married,
and Lady Lodore accompanied him. They stayed but three days. There was
something of fiction in the way in which the appearance of the lady was
recorded. An angel bright with celestial hues, breathing heaven, and
spreading a halo of calm and light around, as it winged swift way amidst
the dusky children of earth: such ideas seemed to appertain to the
beautiful apparition, remembered as Lord Lodore's wife. She was so
young, that time played with her as a favourite child; so etherial in
look, that the language of flowers could alone express the delicate
fairness of her skin, or the tints that sat upon her cheek: so light in
motion, and so graceful. To talk of eye or lip, of height or form, or
even of the colour of her hair, the villagers could not, for they had
been dazzled by an assemblage of charms before undreamt of by them. Her
voice won adoration, and her smile was as the sudden withdrawing of a
curtain displaying paradise upon earth. Her lord's tall, manly figure,
was recollected but as a back-ground--a fitting one--and that was all
they would allow to him--for this resplendent image. Nor was it
remembered that any excessive attachment was exhibited between them. She
had appeared indeed but as a vision--a creature from another sphere,
hastily gazing on an unknown world, and lost before they could mark more
than that void came again, and she was gone.
Since that time, Lord Lodore had been lost to Longfield. Some few months
after Mrs. Elizabeth visited London on occasion of a christening, and then
after a long interval, it was observed, that she never mentioned her
brother, and that the name of his wife acted as a spell, to bring an
expression of pain over her sedate features. Much talk circulated, and
many blundering rumours went their course through the village, and then
faded like smoke in the clear air. Some mystery there was--Lodore was
gone--his place vacant: he lived; yet his name, like those of the dead,
haunted only the memories of men, and was allied to no act or
circumstance of present existence. He was forgotten, and the inhabitants
of Longfield, returning to their obscurity, proceeded in their daily
course, almost as happy as if they had had their lord among them, to
vary the incidents of their quiet existence with the proceedings of the
"Great House."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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