Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume I)Black, William
General
Stand Fast, Craig-Royston! (Volume I)
Black, William
Families -- Fiction; Grandfathers -- Fiction; Older people -- Fiction; Scotland -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
As good luck would have it, when Vincent went up next morning to the
little thoroughfare leading from Park-street, he found exactly the rooms
he wanted, and engaged them there and then, paying a fortnight’s rent in
advance in order to calm the good landlady’s mind, for he had not a
scrap of luggage with him. The sitting-room was all he really required,
to be sure; but he did not wish to be disturbed by having the adjoining
bedroom occupied; so he took that too, money not being of much
consequence to this young man. And then, when the landlady left, he sate
down to look at his new possessions. The apartments must have looked
poorly furnished to eyes familiar with the splendour of Grosvenor Place;
but at all events they seemed clean. Cheap German lithographs adorned
the walls; the fireplace was gay with strips of pink paper. But when he
approached the window—which he did stealthily—there was more to interest
him: the opposite two windows, behind the balcony filled with flowers,
were both open: at any moment a figure might appear there—perhaps
looking out absently and vaguely with those beautiful and wistful eyes.
Or perchance he might hear the tender strains of the unseen violin? He
remained there for some time, rather breathless and nervous, until he
recollected that he had come hither for the purposes of study; and then
he thought he would go away down to Grosvenor Place and seek out such
books and writing-materials as he might want, and bring them along
forthwith.
He went downstairs and was just about to step outside when he caught
sight of something across the way which caused him instantly to shrink
back and shelter himself within the shadow of the door—his heart beating
quickly. He had nearly been face-to-face with the pensive-eyed young
girl, for she had come forth from the opposite house, and was waiting
for her grandfather to follow. He remained concealed—fearful of being
seen, and yet scarcely knowing why. Then, when he heard the door on the
other side shut, and when he had allowed them a few seconds’ grace, he
stepped forth from his hiding, and saw that they were just turning the
corner into Park-street.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account