The Cavaliers of Virginia, vol. 1 of 2: or, The Recluse of Jamestown; An historical romance of the Old DominionCaruthers, William Alexander
History
The Cavaliers of Virginia, vol. 1 of 2: or, The Recluse of Jamestown; An historical romance of the Old Dominion
Caruthers, William Alexander
Virginia -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
At this moment the garden gate was heard to creak upon its hinges, (most
unmusically to Bacon's ears,) and Harriet Harrison came tripping over
beds and flowers, all out of breath, her cheeks glowing with the
heightened colour of exercise, and her eyes sparkling with mischief just
ready to explode.
"Oh, Virginia! Virginia! such news!" was her first exclamation; "But
shall I tell it before Mr. Bacon?"
"Yes, if it is of the usual kind."
"Well, upon your own head be the consequences. I have accidentally
overheard such a secret! You must know that your Aunt Berkley has been
at our house this morning, and I overheard her tell my mother that there
was to be a great wedding immediately, and that I was to be one of the
brides-maids. What! no tell-tale guilty blush? Well, who do you think is
to be the bride-groom, and who the bride?"
"Indeed, Harriet, I cannot even guess."
"The blissful man, then is Beverly--but can you name his bride?"
"I should not go far hence for an answer, if you had not announced your
nomination for a secondary office."
"O fie, fie, Virginia, I did not think you could play the hypocrite so
well. I will tell you who it is then, but you must not breathe it even
to the winds, nor you, Mr. Bacon. It is a sly arch little damsel, about
your age and figure; by name Virginia Fairfax!" And with, these words,
she burst into a loud laugh, pointing to her companion with her finger,
and then tripped away again towards the gate without waiting to see the
effect of her communication; but stopping with the gate in her hand, she
cried--"But remember, Virginia, Charles Dudley is not to stand up with
me; we don't speak now." And then she flew away, her hat hanging by the
riband round her neck, and her raven ringlets flying loose around her
temples. Virginia sat as one without life or motion, her face deadly
pale, and her eye preternaturally clear and glassy, but without a tear.
Her respiration was hurried and oppressed, and her countenance
expressive of high and noble resolves in the midst of the keenest mental
suffering. She knew whence her aunt obtained her information, and in its
communication to others in the confidence of the Governor, before she
had been consulted, she saw the tyrannical determination of that
arbitrary old man to consummate this hated union without the least
regard to her wishes or her feelings.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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