He finds Mr Gwynne in his library, and reminds him of the promised ride.
The horses are ordered, and they are soon trotting down the drive. As if
by mutual consent, they take the turn that leads to Pentre, Lady Mary
Nugent's place. It is about a mile from Glanyravon, and beautifully
situated on a hill that commands a fine prospect of dale, wood, and
river.
The handsome mother and daughter are at home, and hail the arrivals
with great glee. As Lady Mary is not at all certain that Colonel
Vaughan's attentions are not exclusively meant for her, she divides her
civilities with a charming tact between the two gentlemen, and looks so
captivating whilst she does so, that the colonel wishes that her
statue-like daughter had a little of her animation.
Everything that art and taste can devise is collected to adorn the
ladies and their abode, and if nature is lacking within doors, she is
profuse in her gifts without.
There is nothing worth recording in the conversation; if Colonel Vaughan
had thought it over afterwards, he would probably have laughed at the
platitudes he had uttered, and wondered why people paid morning visits.
The coming of age was a grand topic, and the colonel promised to go
again the following day, and 'help in the decorations.
Pages:
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447