Whether it was from any or all of these motives that Burrel acted, or
whether it was a mere affair of habit, does not much matter; for
when he set out on that morning to breakfast at Emberton Park, and
looked up the calm expanse toward the dwelling Blanche Delaware
inhabited--when he entered the old gates, and strolled leisurely up
among the shady trees--when he thought of how fair and how gentle she
was--and when he felt conscious that he was only walking up those
paths for the first time out of many that fate or love destined
him to tread them--he perceived that the matter was somewhat more
serious--that it was too weighty to be raised upon the wings of a
light laugh, or rolled about by an idle sneer.
There was something startling in the sensation; and he felt that where
the happiness of the whole of that space out of eternity, which we are
destined to pass amidst the warm relationships of earth, is concerned,
the matter is grave when rightly considered, if not solemn. But then,
as he went on thinking, even though the morning, pouring through the
dim old trees, had something serious in its very gray tranquillity,
yet the object that connected itself with every idea, the sweet form,
the bright, sunshiny smile of Blanche Delaware, came flitting across
his dreams, and cast a light from itself over the whole future
prospect. Then would Burrel look around him, and weave many a fairy
project of conferring happiness; and he would twine, in fancy, many a
jewel and a wreath to bind the fair brows of the fair girl he thought
of, and would lead her through scenes of splendor, and of beauty, and
of joy, to mansions of domestic happiness and bowers of tranquil
repose.
Thus went it on, till at length he woke up at the door of the
dwelling-house, and found himself as great an enthusiast at heart as
ever lived and loved. Ascending the steps from the terrace, he rang
the large bell, which was answered in a moment by the appearance of an
honest-faced country servant, who was the only male domestic in a
house which, had it been all inhabited, would have required a dozen at
least. A little to the man's surprise, Burrel, who was still thinking
of something else, and whose heart beat more than he thought proper,
walked directly forward to the door of the library, and was raising
his hand to open it, too, when, recollecting himself, he paused, and
suffered the servant to announce him. His hand was cordially shaken by
Captain Delaware, almost as he entered; and there was a glow of
pleasure on the face of the young sailor, not only because he was
really glad to see a man whom he personally liked, but that what he
looked upon as a reproach to the hospitality of their house was wiped
away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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