The artist looked up from his easel this time. He was apparently a little disturbed at the severity of his brother's tone, and scanned his countenance with a nervous, hurried glance. "I daresay these poor people mean the Vicar's daughter, Edgar," he said blandly. "I remember seeing a venerable, grey-headed parson on my last visit to Glenarva. It is possible that he had a daughter or a sister; but I cannot say that I recall her appearance.' A vision of an elderly maiden in blue spectacles and corkscrew curls, dispensing tracts and bottles of port wine, rose before Edgar Wynne's eyes at these words. He had spent most of his past life coffee-planting in Ceylon, and had but small knowledge of modern society and its ways. His brother's suggestion did not serve to mollify his temper, already severely tried by the unlucky circumstances which had attended his arrival at Glenarva. "Anywhere but Brighton" he had said to his London doctor. "Send me anywhere you like but there. All the world goes to Brighton now; and if that is the only cure for me, I frankly own I had rather give up the battle at once." The doctor laughed and rubbed his hands. Yes, Brighton would be best; but his patient was so far recovered, that he might please himself; and he had better go where he liked, and in fact do as he pleased generally. During the long weeks of convalescence in which Wilfrid had nursed him he had spoken to him in glowing terms of the little fishing village on the west coast, where he had spent a month sketching the year before, and now Edgar gladly availed himself of this liberal order to choose his own watering-place. He caught eagerly at the notion of a place where he could find quiet and enjoy beautiful scenery away from the dreary din of town life, and decided on Glenarva without further hesitation. His long years of absence from England, and the grief which he had felt at the death of his mother only a few weeks before his return home, together with his recent illness, had left him with a degree of cynical feeling, and made him rather inclined to shun the society of his fellow-creatures. Besides this, he had a traveller's love for exploring new country, and Glenarva Cove lay in a district wholly unknown to him, and, if Wilfrid's account were to be trusted, combined in itself the advantages and delights of all the watering-places in the British Isles. The houses were good and comfortable, the people primitive and kindly, unspoilt by the rush of tourists and the greed of money-making. Glenarva was ignorant alike of the abominations of monster hotels and the incursions of swindlers and adventurers. parade could be carried over its precipitous rocks, No and the only highway of any importance was the one steep, straggling street which led down to the little harbour. Then, too, all the year round, Glenarva was beautiful. Of that Wilfrid felt sure. But at no time was it so beautiful as in September, when the first russet tints had touched its golden woods, and the light autumn mists threw silvery veils over the distant moorland beyond. So the brothers had come to Glenarva in the last days of September, and Wilfrid had wisely secured rooms beforehand at the house of his former landlady, Lettice Micklewright. Unluckily, the week they chose for their arrival had been marked by a course of equinoctial gales. When, after a tedious journey by rail and coach, the travellers found themselves landed at the top of a steep hill a mile and a half above Glenarva, the rain fell in torrents, and they had considerable difficulty in removing both themselves and their luggage into shelter. When the next morning they rose, indifferently rested after a night disturbed by the violence of the hurricane, the creaking of doors and shutters, with an occasional interlude of crashing slates, it was still raining. And now, at four o'clock in the afternoon, the rain fell and the wind blew with the same furious violence as ever. It was therefore not to be wondered at if Edgar Wynne had as yet failed to 66 THE LITTLE CHURCH DOOR OPENED AND HE STOOD FACE TO FACE Frontispiece. WITH JULIET NEVIL." Page 82. PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION, APPOINTED BY LONDON SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE 26, St. George's place, HYDE PARK CORNER, S.W. NEW YORK: E. & J. B. YOUNG & CO. |