Bride from the Bush , livre ebook

The Floating Press - W. Hornung E.

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

92 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

Today, a family would think nothing of the fact that one of their sons had fallen in love with an Australian woman. In the stodgy nineteenth century, however, the news was taken somewhat differently. Indeed, for the proper British Bligh family in E. W. Hornung's A Bride From the Bush, a dispatch delivering this information is received in the manner of a bomb detonating at the breakfast table. The author skillfully spins what starts out as a classic fish-out-of-water tale into a beguiling mystery.

Informations

Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 juillet 2014
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776581498
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0134€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

A BRIDE FROM THE BUSH
* * *
E. W. HORNUNG

*
A Bride from the Bush First published in 1890 Epub ISBN 978-1-77658-149-8 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77658-150-4 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
Chapter I - A Letter from Alfred Chapter II - Home in Style Chapter III - Pins and Needles Chapter IV - A Taste of Her Quality Chapter V - Granville on the Situation Chapter VI - Comparing Notes Chapter VII - In Richmond Park Chapter VIII - Gran's Revenge Chapter IX - E Tenebris Lux Chapter X - Plain Sailing Chapter XI - A Thunder-Clap Chapter XII - Past Pardon Chapter XIII - A Social Infliction Chapter XIV - 'Hear My Prayer!' Chapter XV - The First Parting Chapter XVI - Traces Chapter XVII - Waiting for the Worst Chapter XVIII - The Boundary-Rider of the Yelkin Paddock Chapter XIX - Another Letter from Alfred
Chapter I - A Letter from Alfred
*
There was consternation in the domestic camp of Mr Justice Bligh onthe banks of the Thames. It was a Sunday morning in early summer.Three-fourths of the family sat in ominous silence before the mockeryof a well-spread breakfast-table: Sir James and Lady Bligh and theirsecond son, Granville. The eldest son—the missing complement of thisfamily of four—was abroad. For many months back, and, in fact, downto this very minute, it had been pretty confidently believed that theyoung man was somewhere in the wilds of Australia; no one had quiteknown where, for the young man, like most vagabond young men, was aterribly meagre corespondent; nor had it ever been clear why any onewith leisure and money, and of no very romantic turn, should have leftthe beaten track of globe-trotters, penetrated to the wilderness, andstayed there—as Alfred Bligh had done. Now, however, all was plain. Aletter from Brindisi, just received, explained everything; Alfred'smovements, so long obscure, were at last revealed, and in a luridlight—that, as it were, of the bombshell that had fallen and burstupon the Judge's breakfast-table. For Alfred was on his way to Englandwith an Australian wife; and this letter from Brindisi, was the firstthat his people had heard of it, or of her.
'Of course,' said Lady Bligh, in her calm and thoughtful manner, 'itwas bound to happen sooner or later. It might have happened very muchsooner; and, indeed, I often wished that it would; for Alfred mustbe—what? Thirty?'
'Quite,' said Granville; 'I am nearly that myself.'
'Well, then,' said Lady Bligh gently, looking tenderly at the Judge(whose grave eyes rested upon the sunlit lawn outside), 'from onepoint of view—a selfish one—we ought to consider ourselves the mostfortunate of parents. And this news should be a matter for rejoicing,as it would be, if—if it were only less sudden, and wild,and—and—'
Her voice trembled; she could not go on.
'And alarming,' added Granville briskly, pulling himself together andtaking an egg.
Then the Judge spoke.
'I should like,' he said, 'to hear the letter read slowly frombeginning to end. Between us, we have not yet given it a fair chance;we have got only the drift of it; we may have overlooked something.Granville, perhaps you will read the letter aloud to your mother andme?'
Granville, who had just laid open his egg with great skill,experienced a moment's natural annoyance at the interruption. To stopto read a long letter now was, he felt, treating a good appetiteshabbily, to say nothing of the egg. But this was not a powerfulfeeling; he concealed it. He had a far stronger appetite than the mererelish for food; the intellectual one. Granville had one of the nicestintellects at the Junior Bar. His intellectual appetite was so hearty,and even voracious, that it could be gratified at all times andplaces, and not only by the loaves and fishes of full-bodied wit, butby the crumbs and fishbones of legal humour—such as the readingaloud of indifferent English and ridiculous sentiments in tonessuitable to the most chaste and classic prose. This he had done incourt with infinite gusto, and he did it now as he would have done itin court.
'"My dear Mother"' (he began reading, through a single eyeglass thatbecame him rather well),—'"Before you open this letter you'll seethat I'm on my way home! I am sorry I haven't written you for so long,and very sorry I didn't before I sailed. I should think when I lastwrote was from Bindarra. But I must come at once to my greatnews—which Heaven knows how I'm to tell you, and how you'll take itwhen I do. Well, I will, in two words—the fact is, I'm married ! Mywife is the daughter of 'the boss of Bindarra'—in other words, a'squatter' with a 'run' (or territory) as big as a good many Englishcounties."'
The crisp forensic tones were dropped for an explanatory aside. 'Heevidently means —father' (Granville nearly said 'my lord,' throughforce of habit), 'that his father-in-law is the squatter; not hiswife, which is what he says . He writes in such a slipshod style. Ishould also think he means that the territory in question is equal insize to certain English counties, individually (though this I ventureto doubt), and not—what you would infer—to several counties puttogether. His literary manner was always detestable, poor old chap;and, of course, Australia was hardly likely to improve it.'
The interpolation was not exactly ill-natured; but it was received insilence; and Granville's tones, as he resumed the reading, were evenmore studiously unsympathetic than before.
'"Of my Bride I will say very little; for you will see her in a weekat most. As for myself, I can only tell you, dear Mother, that I amthe very luckiest and happiest man on earth!"' ('A brave statement,'Granville murmured in parenthesis; 'but they all make it.') '"She istypically Australian, having indeed been born and bred in the Bush,and is the first to admit it, being properly proud of her native land;but, if you knew the Australians as I do, this would not frighten you.Far from it, for the typical Australian is one of the very highest ifnot the highest development of our species."' (Granville read thatsentence with impressive gravity, and with such deference to the nextas to suggest no kind of punctuation, since the writer had neglectedit.) '"But as you, my dear Mother, are the very last person in theworld to be prejudiced by mere mannerisms, I won't deny that she hasone or two— though, mind you, I like them! And, at least, you maylook forward to seeing the most beautiful woman you ever saw in yourlife—though I say it.
'"Feeling sure that you will, as usual, be 'summering' at Twickenham,I make equally sure that you will be able and willing to find room forus; at the same time, we will at once commence looking out for alittle place of our own in the country, with regard to which we haveplans which will keep till we see you. But, while we are with you, Ithought I would be able to show my dear girl the principal sights ofthe Old Country, which, of course, are mostly in or near town, andwhich she is dying to see.
'"Dear Mother, I know I ought to have consulted you, or at leasttold you, beforehand. The whole thing was impulsive, I admit. But ifyou and my Father will forgive me for this—take my word for it, youwill soon find out that it is all you have to forgive! Of course, Iam writing to my Father as much as to you in this letter—as he willbe the first to understand. With dearest love to you both (notforgetting Gran), in which Gladys joins me (though she doesn't know Iam saying so).
'"Believe me as ever,
'"Your affectionate Son,
'"Alfred."'
'Thank you,' said the Judge, shortly.
The soft dark eyes of Lady Bligh were wet with tears.
'I think,' she said, gently, 'it is a very tender letter. I know of noman but Alfred that could write such a boyish, simple letter—not thatI don't enjoy your clever ones, Gran. But then Alfred never yet wroteto me without writing himself down the dear, true-hearted,affectionate fellow he is; only here, of course, it comes out doubly.But does he not mention her maiden name?'
'No, he doesn't,' said Granville. 'You remarked the Christian name,though? Gladys! I must say it sounds unpromising. Mary, Eliza,Maria—one would have rather liked a plain, homely, farm-yard sortof name for a squatter's daughter. But Ermyntrude, or Elaine, orGladys! These are names of ill-omen; you expect de Vere coming afterthem, or even worse.'
'What is a squatter, Gran?' asked Lady Bligh abruptly.
'A squatter? I don't know,' said Gran, paring the ham daintily as heanswered. 'I don't know, I'm sure; something to do with bushranging, Ishould imagine—but I really can't tell you.'
But there was a set of common subjects of which Gran was profoundlyand intentionally ignorant; and it happened that Greater Britain wasone of them. If he had known for certain whether Sydney (for instance)was a town or a colony or an island, he would have kept the knowledgecarefully to himself, and been thoroughly ashamed of it. And it wasthe same with other subjects understanded of the Board-scholars. Thisqueer temper of mind is not indeed worth analysing; nevertheless, itis peculiar to a certain sort of clever young fellows, and GranvilleBligh was a very fair specimen of the clever young fellow. He wasgetting on excellently at the Bar, for so young a man. He also wrote alittle, with plenty of impudence and epigram, if nothing else. Butthis was not his real line. Still, what he did at all, he did more orless cleverly. There was cleverness in every line