The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 1 (of 3)Trollope, Frances Milton
General
The Widow Barnaby. Vol. 1 (of 3)
Trollope, Frances Milton
England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Social classes -- England -- Fiction; Widows -- Fiction
A look of gratitude, and almost of affection, was the answer; and as the
little party sat together, inhaling that most delicious of essences
which the sun draws forth when herbs and flowers are what he shines
upon, with a lovely landscape around, and each other's fair young faces
and blithe voices beside them, was it wonderful that the recent date of
their acquaintance should be forgotten, or that they laughed, and
chatted, and looked about, and enjoyed themselves, with as much gaiety
and as little restraint as if they had known each other for years.
They were all very happy, and a full hour passed unheeded as they amused
themselves, sometimes with idle talk, sometimes with listening to the
reverberating thunder that arose from the blasting of the rocks below
them, and sometimes by sitting silent for a whole minute together,
pulling up handfuls of the fragrant thyme with which their couch was
strewed. They were all very happy, but none of the party had any notion
of the happiness of Agnes. It was the first moment of real positive
enjoyment she had tasted since she left Empton, and a feeling like
renewed life seemed to seize upon her senses. Without reasoning about
it, she had felt, during the last few months, as if it were her fate to
be unhappy, and that all she had to do was to submit; but, to her equal
delight and astonishment, she now found that nobody ever was so much
mistaken, for that she was one of the most particularly happy people in
the world, wanting nothing but sun, sweet air, and a lovely landscape,
to make her forget that such a thing as sorrow existed; and the only
thought that threw a shadow upon the brightness of her spirit, was that
which suggested that she must have been very wicked to have doubted for
a moment the goodness of God, who had formed this beautiful world on
purpose to make people happy.
But, though every moment of such an hour as this seems to leave its own
sweet and lasting impression on the memory, the whole is soon gone; and
when Mary, with the wisdom called for by being the eldest of the party,
jumped up, exclaiming that they had quite forgotten their appointment to
meet her mother on the down, Agnes roused herself with a sigh, as if she
had passed through a momentary trance.
They met the rest of their party, however, though the order of the
meeting was changed, for it was our young set who encountered the others
on their return, after a ramble of half a mile or so towards the
turnpike, which it is probable had not been enlivened by any such
raptures as those felt by Agnes.
The two parties now joined, and the conversation was general, not very
lively perhaps, but by no means devoid of interest to Agnes, who had
fallen so heartily in love with St. Vincent's rocks, as to make her hear
of being fixed for some time in their neighbourhood with the greatest
delight.
"Well, ma'am, have you seen any lodgings that you liked?" said the
eldest Miss Peters to Mrs. Barnaby.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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