Tales of My Time, Vol. 1 (of 3): Who Is She?Scargill, William Pitt
General
Tales of My Time, Vol. 1 (of 3): Who Is She?
Scargill, William Pitt
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
This argument prevailed, insomuch that he took his seat aloft with much
self-complacency, and from the prodigious breadth of his chest, and the
monstrous size of the star-like platforms which Miss Ferret pinned upon
it, quite as large as the sod in a thrush's cage, David looked at a
little distance, so like a target, that had the archers been out, he
might have received an arrow through the heart, before he could have
had time to bless himself. He was next commissioned to return from
Weston by a circuitous route, the pretext for which was to deliver a
message at the house of a work-woman who had not brought home all Miss
Robinson's linen, but the real object of which was to delay the
carriage till all the party should have proceeded, and so avoid the
display of that unwieldy concern amongst the gay chariots and landaus
of the neighbouring gentry, several of whom graced our hymeneals with
their presence. Miss Ferret then took occasion, when the company were
all assembled on the steps just ready for departure, to say aloud to
Lady Goodman, "Upon my word, your ladyship has left us this morning
without a single servant to do any thing. Two gone on with Sir Roger;
one despatched to order post horses, as if a note would not have been
sufficient; and there is Barnett who has already drunk so many healths
to this happy event, that he was not able to stand straight, so I have
sent him off to bed."
So saying, she bustled and fidgeted about till by one contrivance or
other, she got the whole train in motion, and contrived to bring them
all back again, without giving any one leisure to remark how or by
which way they returned to Colbrook, where a beautiful breakfast
awaited them.
What with cutting cake, sticking pins, wrapping, and directing parcels,
with compliments from Mrs. Hartland, and sealing packets of white
gloves, while the gentlemen strolled through the beautiful, but
neglected demesne of Colbrook, Time flew on more rapid wing than he is
used to plume upon a wedding-day in the country, till a "trim-built"
travelling carriage with trunks, cap-case, and imperial drove up to the
door. Sir Roger handed to the bride, who was followed by her _setting
off_ and a shower of congratulations; and off wheeled the _nouveaux
Mariés_ towards Drumcairn, the romantic abode in Aberdeenshire of Mr.
and Mrs. Gordon. Part of the company left Colbrook immediately after,
while a select assembly was retained to dine and drink a bumper toast
to the health and happiness of Henbury Lodge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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