The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1898-02-19
p II,

CHAPTER II.
"DAERELL COUNT is A PRISON TO MET
1t was a beautiful May day, bright with
fresh spring loveliness. The leaves were
springing fresh and green from the trees; the
hedges were all abloom with pink h1wthorn;
the chestnut trees were all in flower; the gold
OF the laburnum, the purple of the lilac, the
white of the fair acacia trees, and the deli
cate green of the stately clms and lines gave
q beautiful variety of color. Tho grass was
dotted with a hundred wild-tlowers; great
clusters of yellow buttcrcups looked in tho
distance like the upspreading of the sea of
gold; the violets perfumed the air, bluebells
stirred in tile sweet spring breeze, and the
birds sang out loudly and jubiiantly.
Ii one spot looked more lovely than anoth-
or OH this bright May day, it was Darrell
Court, for it stood where the sun slono
brightest, in one Of the most romantic and
picturesque hooks of England-the part of
Woodshlrc bordering OH the sea.
Thu mansion and estates stood on gently
rising ground; a chain of purple hills stretch
ed away into the far distance; then came the
pretty town of Audleigh Royal, the Aud
leigh Woods, and the broad, decprivcr Darte.
The bank of the river formed the boundary
of the Darrell estates, a rich and magnificent
heritage, wherein every beauty of meadow
anu wood seemed to meet. The park was
rich IN its stately trees and herds of deer; and
not far from the house was n tir-wood-an
aromatic, odorous tr-wood, which led to the
very shores of the smiling southern sea.
Ey night and by day the grand music of
nature was heard in perfection at Darrell
Court. Sometimes it was the roll of the wind
across the hills, or the beat of angry waves
on the shore, orr the wild melody of the storm
among the pine trees, or the full chorus of a
thousand feathered songsters. The court it.
self was one of the most picturesque of man
sions. 1t did not belong to any one order or
style OF arclliteeture-therc was nothing stiff
or formal about it-but it looked in that
bright May sunshine n noble cditicc, with its
square towers covered with clinging ivy,
gray %turrets, and large archcd windows.
Did the sun ever shine upon such a combi-
nation OF colorsP The sprayof the fountains
glittered i'll the air, the numerous balconies
were filled with flowers; wherever it was
possible for a flower to take root, one had
been placed to ~grow-purple wistarias, sad,
solemn passion-fl0wers, roses of every hue.
The star-like jcssamine and scarlet creepers
gave to the walls of the old mansion a vivid
glow OF color; gold and purple enriched the
gardens, heavy white lilies breathcd taintest
perfume. The spot looked q very Eden.
The grand front entrance consisted Of a
large gothic porch, which was reached by q
broad flight of steps, adorned with white
marble vases filled with flowers; the first ter
race was Immediately below, and terrace led
from terrace down to the grand old gardens,
where sweetest blossoms grew.
There was an old-worlA air about the place
something patrlcian, qllet, reserved. 1t
was no vulgar haunt for .algar crowds; ii
was not a show place; and inc master of it
Sir Oswald Darrell, as he stood upon the ter
race, looked in keeping with its surround
ings.
There was a dtstingue air about Sir Os.
wald, an old-fashioned courtly dignity, which
never for one momen left him. He was
thoroughly well bred; he had not two sets Of
manners-one for the world, and one for
private life; he was always the same, meas
ured IN speech, noble in his grave condescen
sion. No man ever more thoroughly descrv-
ed the name of arist0crat; he was delicate
and %fastidiouS, with profound and deeply.
rooted dislike for all that was ill-bred, vulgar,
or mean.
Even in his dress Sir Oswald was remark
able; the snperiine white linen, the diamond
studs and sleeve links, the rare jewels that
cleaned on lis fingers-all struck the atten-
tion; and, as he took from his pocket a richly
engraved golden snuff box and tapped it with
the ends of his delicate white fingers, there
stood revealed a thorough aristocrat-the
ideal of an English patrician gentleman.
Sir Oswald walked round the stately ter
races and gardens.
II do not sec her" he said to himself; .'yet
most certainly Frampton told ME she was
here"
Then, with his gold-headed cane in hand,
Sir Oswald descended to the gardens. He
was evidently in search of some one. Meet
Ing one of the gardeners, who stood, hat in
hand, as he passed by, Sir Oswald asked:
Have yoa seen Miss Darrell in the gar
dens?"
~ saw Miss Darrell in the fernery some
five minutes since, Sir Oswald" was the
reply.
Sir Oswald drew from his pocket q very
fine white handkerchief and diifused an
agreeable odor of milletleurs around him; the
gardener had been near the stables, and Sir
Oswald was %fastidious.
A short walk brought him to tho fernery,
an exquisite combination of rock and rustic
work, archcd by a dainty green roof, and
made musical by the ripple of n little water
fall. Sir Oswald looked in cautiously, evil
IDENTIFY rather in dread of what he might find
there; then his eyes fell upon something, and
he said:
Pauline, are You there?"
A rich, clear, musical voice answered:
YES, l am here, uncle"
My DEAR" continued Sir Oswald, half
timidly, not advancing a step farther into the
grotto, may | ask what you are doingl'
Certainly, uncle" was the cheerful reply;
''you may ask by all means. The difficulty
Is to answer; for nm really doing nothing,
and / do not know how to describe moth
ing"
why did you come hitherw he asked.
10 DREAM" replied the musical voice. II
think the sound of falling water is the sweet
est music in the world. came here to en-
Joy II, and to dream over it."
Sir Oswald looked very uncomfortable.
considering, Pauline, how much you
have been neglected, do you not think you
might spend your time more proftably-in
educating yourself, for %exalnplc?'
"This is educating myself. AM teaching
myself beautiful thoughts, and nature just
now is my singing MISTRESS" And then the
oPSonSA 'oiSO ouuhSIIJ cidISCu, NIlu IL lily
OF passion came into 1t. 'Wlo says that l
have been neglected? When you say that,
you speak i'll of my dear dead father, and no
one shall do that in my presence. You speak
SANDER, and SANDER i'll becomes All English
gentlcnsG. If was neglected when my
father was alive, l wisl, to goodness such
neglect were my portion now!p
Sir Oswald shrugged his shoulders.
Each one to his or her taste. Pauline.
! With very little more of such neglect you
would have been ID
He paused; perhaps some instinct of pru-
dencc warned him.
"a whatp' she demanded, scornfully.
pray finish the sentence, Sill. Oswald"
MY dear, you aretoo impulslvc, too hasty.
You want more quietness of manner, more
dignity"
Her voice deepened in its tones as she ask
ed:
81 should have been a what, Sir Oswald2 I
never begin a sentence and leave 1t half fin
ished. You surelyare not afraid to finish it?p
mo, my DEAR was the calm reply; there
never yet IVES q Darrell afraid of anything
on earth. II you particularly wish me to do
so, l will finish what I was about to say.
You would have been acontirlned Bohemian,
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