The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume I (of II)Lever, Charles
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The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume I (of II)
Lever, Charles
English fiction -- 19th century
THE point discussed in our last chapter, if not a momentous one in
itself, was destined to exercise a very important influence upon the
fortunes of the Onslow family. The interview between Sir Stafford and
the Viscount scarcely occupied five minutes; after which the Baronet
wrote a note of some length to her Ladyship, to which she as promptly
replied; a second, and even a third interchange of correspondence
followed. The dinner-party appointed for that day was put off; a certain
ominous kind of silence pervaded the house. The few privileged visitors
were denied admission. Mr. Proctor, Sir Stafford's man, wore a look of
more than common seriousness. Mademoiselle Celestine's glances revealed
a haughty sense of triumph. Even the humbler menials appeared to feel
that something had occurred, and betrayed in their anxious faces some
resemblance to that vague sense of half-curiosity, half-terror, the
passengers of a steamboat experience when an accident, of whose nature
they know nothing, has occurred to the machinery.
Their doubts and suspicions assumed more shape when the order came that
Sir Stafford would dine in the library, and her Ladyship in her own
room, George Onslow alone appearing in the dining-room. There was an air
of melancholy over everything, the silence deepening as night came on.
Servants went noiselessly to and fro, drew the curtains, and closed
the doors with a half-stealthy gesture, and seemed as though fearful of
awakening some slumbering outbreak of passion.
We neither have, nor desire to have, secrets from our readers. We will
therefore proceed to Sir Stafford's dressing-room, where the old Baronet
sat moodily over the fire, his anxious features and sorrow-struck
expression showing the ravages even a few hours of suffering had
inflicted. His table was littered with papers, parchments, and other
formidable-looking documents. Some letters lay sealed here, others were
half-written there; everything about him showed the conflict of doubt
and indecision that was going on within his mind; and truly a most
painful struggle was maintained there.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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