Lost Sir Massingberd: A Romance of Real Life. v. 2/2Payn, James
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Lost Sir Massingberd: A Romance of Real Life. v. 2/2
Payn, James
Detective and mystery stories; Fiction
Now, when Marmaduke junior, who was named also Peter, to mark the regard
which both its parents had for my poor self, became of the ripe age of
fourteen weeks or so, and the spring had so far advanced upon the summer
as to admit of open-air rejoicings, it was determined that the advent of
the heir of Fairburn should be celebrated with all due honour. This
would have been done before, for Lady Heath had soon recovered her
strength, and the child was reported to be a miracle of health and
plumpness, had it not been for the backwardness of the season. The Hall
had, of course, made merry upon the matter long ago, and if all the
poor in the place had not done so, it was from no want of materials in
the way of creature-comfort supplied by the young Squire. But what
Marmaduke had waited for was settled fine weather, in order that the
Chase might be filled by merrymakers, whose happiness should cleanse it
from all memories of woe and wrong. Much of these, it is true, had been
effaced already; a portion of the Park had been given up to the
villagers for cricket and other sports, a grant common enough now, but
one almost unexampled in those days, and the right of way which Sir
Massingberd had spent so many hundreds in opposing, had been voluntarily
surrendered. Oliver Bradford still retained his office, but being almost
bedridden, inspired less terror than of yore among evil-doers; this was
not so much to be regretted, however, since there was now little want,
and therefore few poachers in Fairburn, while the general popularity of
the young Squire lessened even those. I am afraid that if the new owner
had heard a gun discharged at night in the Home Spinney itself, it is
doubtful whether he would have laid down his book, or hesitated more
than usual in his vain attempt to checkmate his wife at chess, in order
to listen for the second barrel. The terror of the Lost Baronet had long
been fading from his old domain; and upon this occasion, when old and
young were all invited to make holiday in those once almost unknown
retreats of hare and deer, there was no urchin but was determined--by no
means single-handed, however--to explore them thoroughly. The very
Wolsey Oak which the ravens had made their quarters was not shunned, but
in the great space about it, races were run, and dances danced, and its
vast trunk was made the very headquarters of childish merriment. These
young folks did not affect the company of their elders, except when the
gongs gave signal from the various marquees that there was food afoot,
when they flocked to meet their parents at the heaped-up boards with a
dutiful celerity. The higher class of tenantry were upon the lawn, and
among them mixed with stately condescension a goodly number of the
county aristocracy. I remember that some of the latter introduced upon
this occasion the new dance called the quadrille, which had just arrived
from Paris at that time. It had come over in the bad company of the
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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