The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-10-22
The stOckbrOksr at DinglewoOd.
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER 1.
Those who saw D~inglewood only
after the improvements had been
made, could scarcely be able to form
to themselves any idea of what il
was before the Greshams came. |
call them improvements because
everybody used the word; but l can
not say l thought the house improved.
1t was an old fashioned red brick
house, nothing to speak of/architect-
uraIly--in the style of Kensington
Palace and Kew, and the rest of those
old homely royal houses. The draw
ing room opened its tall windows
upon a little terrace, which was very
green, and grassy, and pleasant. /
should be sCrry to undertake to say why
it was called DIDglewood. Mr.. Govern
Try made merry over the name when he
had it. He used to say it was be-
cause there were no trees; but that
was not strictly the case. 1t was quite
open and bare, it is true. towards the
river, which we could not see from the
Green; but there was a little grove of
trees which interposed between US
and the house, as If to shut out Dim
glewood from the vulgarity of neigh
bOTs. Lit was a popular house in q
quiet way when the Coventrys were
there. They did not give parties, or
pretend to take much trouble In the
way of society, for Lady Sarah was
always delicate; but when we were
tired with our view on the Green,
and our lawns and trees, we were always
welcome on the DingleWOOd terrace,
where the old people were constantly
to be found sitting out in the summer
afternoon, Lady Sarah on her sofa,
and Mr.. Coventry with the newspa-
pers and his great dog. The lawn
went sloping down towards the river,
which lay still and white under the
? sunshine, with a little green island,
and a little gray house making q cen
tire to the picture. As long as the
sloping bank was lawn, it was closely
cut and kept like velvet; but when it
became field these niceties stopped,
and Lady Sarah's pet Attorney stood
up TO her knees In the cool clover.
There was an old mulberry-tree close
to the wall of the house, which shaded
the sofa and a gloomy yew on the
other side did the same thing for
Mr.. Coventry, who was an old Indian
and a salarlander, and could bear
any amount of sunshine. Lady
Sarah's perpetual occupation was
knitting. She knitted all sorts of
bright-colored things in brilliant
German wool with big ivory pins,
and her husband used to read the
news to her. They read all the de-
bates together, stopping every now
and then to exchange their sentiments.
Lady Sarah would say with her brisk
little voice, He might have made a
better point there. | don't see that
he proves his case. L don't agree
with that" and Mr.. Coventry would
stop, and lay down the paper on his
knees, and discuss it leisurely. There
was no reason why they should not
do it at their leisure. The best part
of the Summer days were spent thus
by the old couple; and the sunshine
lay warm aad still round them, and
the leaves hustled softly, and the cool
grass kept growing under their peace
full old feet. These feet tread mortal
soil no longer, and all this has moth
ing in the world to do with my story.
But it was a pretty sight in its way.
They were not rich, and the furniture
and carpets were very faded, and
everything very different from what it
came to be afterwards; yet we were
all very fond of Mr. Coventry and his
pretty old wife, aud the old-tashioned
house was appropriate to them. I
like TO think of them even now.
We were all anxious, of course,
after Mr.. Coveutry's death, to know
who would buy the house (Lady
Sarah could not bear it after he was
gone, and. indeed, lived Only a year
after him); and when it was known
that young Mr.. Gresham was the
purchaser, it made quite a sensation
on the Green. He was the son oil
old Gresham, who had bought Bish-
ops Hope, a noble place at Cookies
ley, about a dozen miles off, but had
made all his fortune as a stockbroker,
and, they say, not even the best kind
at that. His son had succeeded him
in business, and had lately married
somebody In his own class. He was
a nice looking young fellow enough,
and had been brought up at Elton, to
be sure, like so many of those peo-
pies sons; but still one felt that it
was bringing in a new element to the
Green. LII his wife had been, as so
often happens, a gentlewOman, it
would have made things comparatively
easy. But she was only the daughter
of n mercantile man like himself, and
there was great discussion among us
as to what we should do when they
came. Some families made up their
minds at once not to call; and some,
on the other hand, declared that such
rich people were sure to feter the
whole country, and that everybody
would 20 to them. If they had only
been a little rich, it would never have
answered; but they are frightfully
rich, and, of course, we must all go
down on our knees" Lottie Stoke
said. She was the most eager of all
to know them; for her youth was
passing away. and she was not likely
to marry, and the Stokes were poor.
l confess / was curious myself to see
how things would turn out.
Their first step, however. was one
which took US all by surprise. Young
Gresham dashed over In his Yankee
g from Cookesley to go over the
house, and the same day a charming
barouche made the tout of the Green,
with a very pretty young woman in it,
and a lovely little girl, and matchless
tiny Skye terrier-all going to inspect
DinClewood.
The arms on tae carriage were
quartered to the last possibility of
quartering, as if they had come
through generations Of heiresses and
gentlemen of coat armor, and the
toOtman was powdered and dazzling
to behold. Altogether, it was by far
the finest equlpage hat had been seen
IN these parts for a long time. Not
To speak of Lady Denzel's. or the
other great people about, her Majes-