Vellenaux A Novel, Edmund William Edmund William [reading a book .TXT] 📗

The

Rev. Charles Denham Pressed The Little Hand Within His Own,  Made His

Bow,  And Walked In The Direction Of Harley Street,  While Emily Barton

Entered The House Of Her Brother Horace.

 

There Is An Old Saying,  Familiar To Most Of Us As Household Words,  Which

Tends To Show That The Course Of True Love Never Does Run Smooth. Now

With All Due Deference To The Talented Authority Who Promulgated This

Startling Announcement,  We Beg To Differ With Him On The Subject. It May

Be As He Says,  As A Rule,  But Our Belief Is That There Are Exceptions To

This Rule,  As Well As To Others; For We Say Without Fear Of

Contradiction,  That The Loves Of The Pretty Emily Barton And Her Very

Devoted Lover,  The Rev. Charles Denham,  Glided Smoothly And Sweetly

Along Its Unruffled Course,  Until It Eventuated In That Fountain Of

Human Happiness Or Misery,  Marriage. On The Lady'S Side There Was No

Stern,  Selfish Parent Who Would Burden The Young Shoulders,  And Drive

From Her Path Those Inmost Pleasures So Natural To The Young And

Light-Hearted,  And Cause Her To Lose Her Freshness And Bloom,  By

Attending Solely To His Whims And Wishes,  Or Crush Her Young Heart With

Hope Deferred. There Was No Ambitious Match Making Mother,  Ready To

Sacrifice The Hearts Best Affections,  In Order That She Might Become The

Unloved Wife Of Some Shallow Pated Young Dandy,  With More Aristocratic

Blood Than Brains,  And A Coronet In Perspective.

 

Nor Was The Reverend Lover Subjected To Any Trials Of A Similar Nature;

He Was An Orphan,  With But One Near Relative,  A Bachelor Uncle,  Who Was

Fond Of His Nephew,  And Proud Of His Talent And The Position He Had

Attained As Rector Of Vellenaux. The Old Gentleman Had Intended To Leave

Him His Property,  Amounting To Some Five Thousand Pounds,  In The Five

Per Cents.,  At His Death; But The Kind-Hearted Relative On Learning That

His Brother'S Son Had Secured So Estimable A Lady For His Wife;

Belonging To A Family Who For So Many Years Had Resided In The

Neighborhood Of Vellenaux,  The Scene Of The Young Rector'S Labours; He

Altered His Will,  Placing Half Of The Original Sum To Charles Denham'S

Credit,  At Drummond'S Bank In London,  Subject To His Cheque Or Order,  So

That The Rectory Could Be Furnished And Fitted Up With All The

Requisites Befitting The Position Of The Young Couple.

 

It Was A Right Joyous Group That Gathered Around The Wedding Breakfast

Table At 54 Harley Street,  On That Bright Summer Morn,  That Saw Emily

Barton Made The Happy Bride Of The Equally Happy Rector Of Vellenaux. A

Friendly Bishop Tied The Connubial Knot In One Of The Most Aristocratic

Churches In London,  And A Few Hours Afterwards Emily And Charles

Departed,  Not By Rail,  To Some Uncomfortable Foreign Hotel,  But By

Travelling,  Carriage And Post Horses To Their Home At Vellenaux. For The

Guests Who Had Assembled To Witness The Wedding Ceremony,  There Was

Another Treat In Store,  They Were Invited To A Ball Given In Honor Of

The Occasion By The Brother Of The Bride,  At His Mansion In berkly

Square,  Concerning Which More Anon.

 

The Term For Which The Willows Had Been Rented,  Now Expired,  And Horace

Determined To No Longer Delay His Departure For Devonshire. This Had

Been Ever In His Mind While Serving In India. He Loved The Old Place And

There Were Now Fresh Inducements For Him To Give Up The House In London,

And Repair To The Willows. His Brother Tom Was Married And Settled At

Vellenaux,  And Emily Had Just Become The Wife Of The Rector,  And Lived

Within A Stone'S Throw Of Her Old Home. Thus,  With The Visits Of His

Aunt And The Ashburnham'S,  Pauline Would Not Be Without Society; Besides

He Would Take Her And Edith,  Whom He Now Looked Upon As A Sister,  To

London During The Height Of The Gay Season,  And This He Thought Would

Not Fail To Please All Parties.

 

Mrs. Barton Was To Give A Farewell Entertainment Prior To Her Departure,

Which Should Exceed Anything That She Had Hitherto Attempted,  And The

Evening Of The Day Of Emily'S Marriage Was Fixed For The Occasion.

 

It Was Somewhat Late In The Afternoon When Captain Carlton And Doctor

Draycott Reached London,  Where The Two Friends And Travelling Companions

Parted--Draycott For His Father'S House In Finsbury Pavement,  And

Carlton For His Hotel In bond Street. His First Idea Was To Go Direct To

Berkly Square And Inform Edith And The Bartons Of The Death Of Sir

Ralph,  And The Declaration He Had Made Concerning The Will Of The Late

Sir Jasper; But While Waiting In The Coffee Room Of The Hotel,  Looking

Over The Morning Paper,  He Chanced To Hear The Following Conversation

Between Two Gentlemen Standing At The Bow Window That Looked Out On The

Street.

 

"And So The Bartons Give Their Farewell Spread This Evening? Are You

Going?"

 

"Well,  I Rather Think So," Was The Other'S Reply. "It Is A Thousand

Pities,  However,  To Bury That Lovely Woman,  Miss Effingham,  In The

Country. There Is Not Her Equal In Town. If She Only Had A Decent

Allowance Of Cash Or Other Property,  She Would Have Been Sought For By A

Coronet,  You May Depend On That."

 

"But I Heard," Continued His Friend,  "That She Was Engaged To An Indian

Officer,  Who Is Expected In england Shortly," And With These Words They

Passed Out Into The Street.

 

On Hearing This,  Arthur Determined To Defer His Visit A Few Hours

Longer. There Was A Great Rush Of Vehicles That Night On The South Side

Of Berkly Square. The Heavy Family Carriage,  With Its Sleek Horses,

Driven At A Sober Pace By Old John,  The Dashing Curricle And Smart

Barouche,  With The Elegant Private Cab With Its Busy Little Tiger In Top

Boots,  Whose Single Arm Stops The Thorough Bred Animal When His Master

Drops The Reins.

 

"Is Them 'Ere Hangels," Enquired The Butcher Boy Of His Crony,  Tom

Drops,  The Pot Boy At The Crown And Sceptre,  Just Round The Corner,  As

The Two Young Ladies,  Who Had Acted In The Character Of Bridesmaids In

The Morning,  Stepped From Their Carriage On To The Indian Matting Which

Had Been Stretched Across The Pavement To The Hall Steps,  All Tarletan

And Rose Buds,  And Ascended The Grand Staircase Leading To The Ball

Room.

 

"Well,  If They Ain'T They Ought To Be," Was The Response Of Tom Drops.

At This Moment A Very Stout And Elaborately Turbaned Dowager Passed

Slowly From Her Brougham Along The Matting And Entered The Hall.

 

"Is She A Hangel Too,  Do You Think? Don'T Look Much Like One Now,"

Enquired The Young Butcher.

 

"In Course Not," Said Tom,  "They Loses All The Hangel When They Marries,

Leastways So I Have Heard. But Who It This Swell? He Is Bang Up To The

Mark; He'S A Horse Sojer I Knows,  And A Ossifer," As The Embroidered

Sabretache Of Captain Carlton Met His View While Ascending The Hall

Steps. "Well,  I Am Off," Said One To The Other And The Two Lads Went

Their Way.

 

"Show Me Into The Library,  And Hand This Card To Miss Effingham," Said

Arthur To A Servant At The Foot Of The Staircase. The Footman First

Looked At Him,  Then At The Name On The Card,  Then Said,  With A Low Bow,

"Certainly,  Sir,  Certainly," And Ushered The Captain To Rather A Snug

Little Apartment Which Was Used As A Library. Edith Was Dancing When The

Footman Entered. On The Conclusion Of The Waltz He Approached And

Quietly Handed Her The Card. A Flush Of Pleasure Lit Up Her Beautiful

Features,  And Joy Sparkled In Her Brilliant Eyes,  As She Read The Name,

And Without A Word To Any One,  Followed The Servant And Passed Straight

To The Room Where Her Lover Waited For Her. We Will Pass Over The

Transports Of Their First Meeting,--It Can Be Easily Imagined,  As The

Reader,  Is Already Aware Of Their Engagement,  And That He Had Returned

To England For The Sole Purpose Of Their Union. After The Emotion Of The

First Few Moments Had Subsided Arthur Related To Her The Accident By

Which Sir Ralph Had Been Killed,  And Of The Existence Of Her Uncle'S

Will,  And The Way It Had Been Stolen By Mrs. Fraudhurst,  And Sir Ralph'S

Complicity In The Plot.

 

A Feeling Of Regret At The Untimely End Of The Unhappy Man,  As He Had

Been Hurried Into Eternity Without Preparation,  Came Over Her For A Few

Moments,  This Was Chased Away By Indignation At The Fraudulent And Base

Part That Had Been Played By Her Late Governess And Companion. "What Has

Become Of Her?" She Inquired.

 

"Decamped,  And No Doubt Fled The Country Ere This; All That Is Known Of

Her Is That She Left Vellenaux On The Plea Of Rendering All The

Assistance In Her Power To Sir Ralph,  But She Did Not Make Her

Appearance In That Neighbourhood," Was Arthur'S Answer. The Reader Knows

More Of Her Movements Than Any Of Her Acquaintances At Vellenaux Or

London.

 

"And We Shall Have Dear Old Vellenaux To Live In. Oh! Arthur Dear,  I Am

So Happy,  With All The Friends I Hold Most Dear On Earth Residing Around

Us. You Will Of Course Leave The Service Now? How Kind Of My Poor,  Dear

Uncle To Think Of Us Both In His Will. But Mrs. Barton May Notice My

Absence,  And Become Uneasy,  So Let Us Return;" And In another Moment Or

Two,  Leaning On The Arm Of Her Handsome Affianced Husband,  Edith

Re-Entered The Ball Room,  Much To The Relief And Surprise Of Pauline

Barton. Arthur Carlton Took An Opportunity During The Evening Of

Relating To Mr. Barton The Change That Had Taken Place In edith'S

Circumstances By The Death Of,  And Disclosures Made By,  The Late

Baronet.

 

"Meet Me At Breakfast In The Morning,  And We Will Consult As To What

Immediate Steps Should Be Taken On This Extraordinary Occasion; But Of

Course You Will Sleep Here," Said Horace. Arthur Assented,  And Was Soon

Again At Edith'S Side,  Who Had Told Confidentially To Mrs. Barton All

That He Had Told Her: And That Little Lady Could Not Restrain Her

Delight,  And Before Eleven O'Clock That Evening,  Every One In The Room

Became Aware That The Beautiful Miss Effingham Was Worth Twenty Thousand

Pounds A Year As Heiress Of Vellenaux.

 

Mr. And Mrs. Denham,  Previous To The Ball,  Took Their Departure For

Devonshire,  And Were Comfortably Settled In The Rectory Before Horace

Returned To The Willows. He Had Postponed Their Journey In Order That

Arthur And Edith Might Have The Benefit Of His Advice And Assistance In

Such Matters As Might Arise During The Establishment Of Their Claims,

Set Forth In The Will Of The Late Sir Jasper,  Now Produced.

 

Mr. Septimus Jones Was A Lawyer Of Good Repute,  Carrying On His Practice

Now,  And Had Been Doing So For Upwards Of Fifteen Years In The Main

Street Of Hammersmith Leading To The Suspension Bridge.

 

"Nicholas," Said That Gentleman One Morning,  As He Laid On His Desk A

Copy Of The _Times_ Newspaper,  Which He Had Been Carefully Perusing For

Upwards Of An Hour,  "Nicholas,  Do You Remember A Youth Named Edward

Crowquill,  That I Had In My Office Some Ten Years Since?"

 

The Old And Confidential Clerk Ceased Writing,  And Thrusting His Pen

Behind His Ear,  Rubbed His Hands Softly Together,  And Said,  "Most

Certainly I Do. He Was Not Fit For The Business,  And Gave It Up Through

Ill Health; Studied Medicine For A Time,  And Is Now A Chemist And

Druggist,  Residing Some Hundred Yards Down The Street."

 

"Exactly So," Replied His Employer,  "You Will Be Good Enough To Put On

Your Hat And Go And Request Him To Do Me The Favor To Step Up Here For A

Few Moments." Nicholas Did His Master'S Bidding,  And Returned Shortly,

Accompanied By Mr. Crowquill. Mr. Jones,  After Requesting Him To Be

Seated,  And Directing His Clerk To Pay Attention,  Took Up The Newspaper,

And Read,  In a Clear Voice The Following Advertisement: "To Lawyers And

Otters.--If The Party Who Drew The Will Of The Late Sir Jasper Coleman

Of Vellenaux,  Devonshire,  And Those Who Witnessed The Same Document Some

Ten Years Ago,  Will Call At The Office Of Messrs. Deeds,  Chancery,  And

Deeds,  Solicitors,  Gray'S Inn Lane,  They Will Be Handsomely Rewarded For

Their Trouble." "Now,  Gentlemen," Continued He,  "I Drew This Will,  And

You Both Witnessed It. Do You Both Remember The Circumstance." After A

Little Reflection They Both Recollected The Circumstance.

 

"Oh! Since You Have Not Forgotten The Occurrence,  I Will Show You A

Rough Draft Of The Will Which I Made At The Time,  And By Reading This It

Will Refresh Your Memories,  And You Will Be Better Able To Swear To The

Real Will If It Should Be Produced."

 

"When Do You Purpose Calling Upon The Solicitors?" Enquired Crowquill.

 

"To-Morrow Morning We Will Call For You On Our Road To Town," Replied

Mr. Jones,  Politely Bowing His Visitor