"I have come to make my parting compliments, Miss Moseley," he said, in
a tremulous voice, as he ventured to hold forth his hand. "May heaven
preserve you," he continued, holding it in fervor to his bosom: then
dropping it, he hastily retired, as if unwilling to trust himself any
longer to utter all he felt. Emily stood a few moments, pale and almost
inanimate, as the tears flowed rapidly from her eyes; and then she
sought a shelter in a seat of the window. Lady Moseley, on returning,
was alarmed lest the draught would increase her indisposition; but her
sister, observing that the window commanded a view of the road, thought
the air too mild to do her injury.
The personages who composed the society at B---- had now, in a great
measure, separated, in pursuit of their duties or their pleasures. The
merchant and his family left the deanery for a watering-place. Francis
and Clara had gone on a little tour of pleasure in the northern
counties, to take L---- in their return homeward; and the morning
arrived for the commencement of the baronet's journey to the same place.
The carriages had been ordered, and servants were running in various
ways, busily employed in their several occupations, when Mrs. Wilson,
accompanied by John and his sisters, returned from a walk they had taken
to avoid the bustle of the house. A short distance from the park gates,
an equipage was observed approaching, creating by its numerous horses
and attendants a dust which drove the pedestrians to one side of the
road. An uncommonly elegant and admirably fitted travelling barouche and
six rolled by, with the graceful steadiness of an English equipage:
several servants on horseback were in attendance; and our little party
were struck with the beauty of the whole establishment.
"Can it be possible Lord Bolton drives such elegant horses?" cried John,
with the ardor of a connoisseur in that noble animal. "They are the
finest set in the kingdom."
Jane's eye had seen, through the clouds of dust, the armorial bearings,
which seemed to float in the dark glossy panels of the carriage, and she
observed, "It is an earl's coronet, but they are not the Bolton arms."
Mrs. Wilson and Emily had noticed a gentleman reclining at his ease, as
the owner of the gallant show; but its passage was too rapid to enable
them to distinguish the features of the courteous old earl; indeed, Mrs.
Wilson remarked, she thought him a younger man than her friend.
"Pray, sir," said John to a tardy groom, as he civilly walked his horse
by the ladies, "who has passed in the barouche?"
"My Lord Pendennyss, sir."
"Pendennyss!" exclaimed Mrs. Wilson, with a tone of regret, "how
unfortunate!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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