As they emerged from the avenue, the mansion, in all its ancient
grandeur, came into view. They passed through the shadow of a group of
ancient pines and cedars of Lebanon, a graceful sweep around flower beds
ablaze with blossoms brought them to the main entrance, where the
stately old butler, Edgson, stood bareheaded to receive them. He was
supported by a group of white-aproned and white-capped maids, and a pert
little page-boy in livery, with a liberal display of bright buttons.
Mr Muirhead had not spoken much during the car ride, but his quick
powers of perception had taken in, at a glance, the majesty of this old
Tudor mansion. His keen eyes had observed the extended row of gables,
the twisted chimneys, the oriel windows, the massive ivy-clad walls, and
the added buttresses. The mind of a banker is trained to values, and as
he surveyed, with his quick comprehensive glance, the extensive stabling
and greenhouses, with a vista of beautiful gardens beyond, he was
satisfied that he had not made a mistake in allowing his daughter to
become mistress of Aldborough Park, and any of the estates and property
that Raife might own.
He did not know of Raife's story of "the other woman." By common
consent it had been agreed that it was not necessary to tell him.
Youth, in love, revels in secrets, and this was the secret of these
young lovers.
CHAPTER TWENTY.
THE MOST MOMENTOUS OCCASION OF HILDA'S LIFE.
Hilda was a fairly practical, self-reliant, American girl. She was face
to face with the most momentous occasion of her life as she passed
through that line of respectful servants. With a woman's knowledge she
was fully conscious of the strict scrutiny to which she was being
subjected from under all those apparently drooping eyelashes.
"Where is my mother, Edgson?" asked Raife.
"She is in the library, Sir Raife," answered the old butler.
"Will you announce us, please. No, don't trouble, I will go upstairs
myself, if you good folk will wait here," and he ushered them into an
old oak-panelled room, with gloomy old portraits that seemed to frown
down upon them.
Raife's meeting with his mother was affectionate, and tears were in her
eyes as she asked: "Have you brought her, Raife?"
He replied, cheerily: "Yes, mother dear, and I want you to like her and
give her and her father a hearty welcome to Aldborough."
In somewhat anxious tones, she said: "I hope I shall, dear, and I
promise to try. Of course, they shall have a hearty welcome. She is my
son's choice, and I will do my duty." Then, in halting accents, she
added: "You are your own master here. Forgive me, Raife, if I appear
anxious. I love you very dearly, and with all a mother's love. You are
all I have left in this world, and I fear for your happiness." Then,
smiling, she again added: "I will not remind you that you were always a
brave, darling, wayward boy."
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account