The Argosy — page 139: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

124 A Capriccio. downs that stretched away in softly-swelling undulations towards the great chalk cliffs of the coast. Brantwood itself was an imposing old building, finely situated amongst grand old trees, above which rose the turrets and gables of the castle ; and as I drove up to the entrance I felt very nervous, and insignificant in Comparison. The great iron-studded doors closed behind me with a thud that echoed down the long hall in which I stood, a slim, unimportant figure in clinging garments, gazed down upon by the glassy eyes of antlered heads of deer on the wall, and eyed with disdainful supe- riority by three stately and consequential footmen. All my courage and high spirits forsook me, and I looked round appealingly, devoutly wishing myself at home again, “Walk this way, please,” said one of the servants, whose ample waistcoat and broad, placid countenance imparted to him a certain air of sublimity which was awe-inspiring. And with that he slowly marched down the hall until he reached a red baize door. Here he paused to inquire mysteriously : ‘‘What name?” then threw open the door and shouted in stentorian tones : “Miss Celior Randorm !” The room was so darkened that at first I could distinguish nothing in it. Buta rustle of silks in one corner, and a little excla- mation of welcome guided me up to whom I supposed to be my mistress. Then my hand was warmly shaken, and a bright, foreign- sounding voice exclaimed : “At last! This is charming, Miss Random. I assure you that I have been on the verge of suicide every day this week from ennui, and you are just in time to help to revive my spirits. You must be tired. Are you hungry? I daresay you had a long and dusty journey ?” ‘Rather long,” I answered timidly. ‘ Thank you, I am not tired, or hungry; but only a little dusty and —— ” “And shy? Why, you look a perfect baby. And I dare wager you are terrified of me. Dear me—what an idea! Come, let me see you in the light. No doubt you are dying to see me, too, are you not? Expected to see a very old, ill-tempered woman, with crutches and spectacles ? ” Laughing and chattering, more to herself than to me, she drew up one of the crimson silk blinds, and turned to scan me from head to foot, looking at the same time as if she expected to overwhelm my country-bred mind with admiration of herself. Indeed, at the first glance, she did strike me as being a very beau- tiful woman. She was of middle height, with a graceful figure and tiny hands and feet ; her black hair was elaborately dressed, rising in a pyramid from off the shapely forehead, and curling with artificial regularity on her temples. Her colouring was bright, and rendered doubly so by comparison with her black eyebrows and sparkling dark ECORNIECLOOKS.E©