The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1Scotus, Johannes
History
The Weird of the Wentworths: A Tale of George IV's Time, Vol. 1
Scotus, Johannes
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- George IV, 1820-1830 -- Fiction
generally made himself very comfortable with hock or champagne, for, we
are grieved to say, wine was the Marquis' delight, and drinking his
besetting sin! At Paris, the friends parted with the near prospect of a
happy meeting ere long in Scotland, whither the noble couple were to
proceed after a week at Paris, in order to pay their first visit at Dun
Edin Towers.
In ten days more, Ellen was welcomed back, after a long absence, by her
brother and sister, who received her home with rapturous joy, and were
full of the kindness shown them by the Earl since his return to the
Towers.
"Do you know, Nelly, we have spent every Saturday there, and he so often
inquired after you?" said Johnny.
Mr. Lennox was one of the earliest to welcome our heroine back, and
congratulate her on her improved health: he came avowedly to hear all
about her tour, but one would have rather thought he had come to boast
of his "good luck," as he called it, in being asked to spend a week at
the Towers, where the Earl was about to entertain a select circle for a
short time. "Among which," said the proud man, "are my cousins on my
father's side, the Duke of Richmond and Lord George Lennox; and if I
mistake not, Miss Ravensworth, both you and your father will also have
the distinguished honour of accompanying me thither."
CHAPTER XIII.
"Beneath the art-embroidered vest
Is often hid a weary breast;
And gaiety dissembles ill
The pangs that make the sad heart chill,
When gold and pleasure strive in vain
To buy immunity from pain."--_Anon._
We now claim Ariosto's privilege, and for a while shift our scene to an
elegantly furnished boudoir in one of the best houses in a street in the
West End of London.
In the centre of this apartment stood a rosewood table covered with a
gorgeous cloth, on which in charming _neglige_ were scattered several
well-bound volumes--a few ornaments--an ivory fan beautifully carved--a
pair of white kid gloves, and a bouquet of flowers. In the centre stood
a camphine lamp, which shed a soft light, and disclosed sofas, chairs,
and ottomans, all of the same expensive wood, and covered with crimson
velvet cushions. A grand piano stood near the folding doors which opened
into a smaller back room; a harp stood between the windows, one of which
was slightly opened, for though it was now nearly ten o'clock there was
no need yet of shutting out the soft west wind that blew lightly from
the park. The bars of the fireplace were garnished with boughs of
myrtle, and above the mantelpiece was a large mirror, on either side of
which hung a miniature painting, the only two pictures in the room. The
whole air of the room was one of luxury and elegance, and the sweet
perfume of some exotic flowers, which breathed from a small
conservatory into which the other window opened, filled the apartment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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