Chapter 174512019

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Chapter NumberXXXV
Chapter TitleGASTRONMY.
Chapter Urlhttp://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article174512019
Full Date1892-05-07
Page Number1
Corrections0
Word Count2067
IllustratedN
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleThe Bendigo Independent (Vic. : 1891 - 1918)
Trove TitleThe Devil's Own. An Australian Story
article text

CHAPTER XXXV.

GASTRONMY.

A good dinner sharpens not while it softens the heart DORAN. “Dear me ! and you really have dances

in Australia ! and the—the—the darkies, are , they tq attend your balls witfrthelp naked -feet; and do they dance sol” said Colonel Vandaleur, spreading out his fat hands in thq.air much after sleepy-' turtle, as if to illustrate of bare, flat feeti ? ? t ‘ “ Darkies ! You moan the aboriginals,” said the .widow, “‘Inever saw one I am sorry 7 to say, though I was in Aus tralia for years. -They are nearly extinct in the more civilised parts of the colony.” “ Ah! That’s the word is it, abor—? Whatsis : it?. We will say natives, it is not’such a lockjaw word at any rate. I, always go Iq.fer saving trouble. I con sider it a duty to make life cosy in every way, even to,conversation, 1 don’t her lievo in humbug; you remember that twaddle ascribed to old Johnson, the dictionary mao, about the density of the atmbapbero" with the tardity of the qaadrupcd,makiog his matutine attenera 7 tions' superlativoly injocund 1 the fellow deserved a billot in a lunatic asylum,” saidJhe.coloneL..... . . . s .: . It was at a dinner injQrosvonor Square given id' tlio ‘Fortcscues by the Duchess of, that tho Duke with Mrs. Fortcscue qn his right, and “ tho little girl,” as ho persisted in calling Vera; 'on; bis t . looked, .supremely happy, and very rauph ; amused at. quizzical battfery'or words.the colonel was launch ing forth, and which the pretty widow Beeufed well qble tp. answer.. , “There m one .thing you -beat us in f - Mrs.' Fbrtescqe,” said the, Duke, “ your climate, it must im perfect, summer all the ye$r round/ with ..roses and sunshine in abundance, it must be glorious, eh coip’nei|’ ‘ • .. , nyj. joyo 1 ho snow, no cold, no nothingimtbo way of pbjootionables, only, warm 1 Them ( .don’tkaowwhat -an yet, that, ia a tqhery to -abominable. , 1 alwaysjquhdbwh . to the Riviera ,at the . first {mention- of autumnal tints—that toooVs much over exaggerated, term' for iWdJeaveacand the shivers—lassure you is. something ..awful in winter-—miofcure to yoursclf'V vast tract of bare !and dotted with clothes pegs to reprint the foliage,; or rather, the timber, nothing "else;, the very birds fight the aspfict, .and.as to, animals, I givojybu ray wordj iiot one is to be seen' except .perhaps a poor neglected orphan donkey the, common—t-the pioburopf misery aud hupger.popr brute; , It.is. too fl r -L shudder at the >wdrd ywnfeV;” -? v “ Y.ou -forget/ the' hunting,” said the give up., my huntings for top fipst climate iu the, Riviera,” “ have very good .hutitiog in Aus- lyprteBpife;, : ,. .. really, 1J.’, soldthe, Colonels

* Ah, yes, now I remember ; you' hunt th i eihop, dp you not ? Sort of animal like the aipacc*, ia it not. It spita at j you, don’t it? ” “The emu ia a bird,” said Mrs. Portescue, who could hardly repress her laughter. “ A bird ! ” aaya Ihri-CAonol ; ** hunt n bird-! that must be the extremes! of insane cruelty or barbarism. It seems to mo too absurd to think of a whole ! troop of dogs and horses and men tear ing at railway speed like mad after a poor little hare; but after a bird. \\ hy doesn’t ’the creature fly away at the first glimpse of the v “An emu has no wings, or rather too small to be of use,'and we do riot hunt emus. _,AYo hunt kangaroo, and -dingoes,- or native dogs. They are more like wolves and howl : like wolves.” “Ah! Well there is something sensible in hunting such brutes. Ism not much' of a hunting man myself, and if I wore, the very name of an, English winter makes ray teeth chatter. Talking of hunting, do you know Armytage? Aw.tul| fellow to brag.” - ; - “Is that the fellow that behaved so dastardly at Perira, .when- tlxa 'steamer’ wont on the rocks,” said the Duke. “The same, do you know him 1” *• I don’t know why don’t,” said the Duke. “I knew him* well as a boy. His father, old Sir Launcelot Armytage, was my oldest friend—the son' does not seem,to have improved by going round the world, by all accounts he mast'be a thorough cad.” “So he is,” said the Colonel in a quieter tone to the Duke, “ho was actually bragging losfc'night before a lot of fellows at the ( Electric’ that every pretty woman in the colony ran after him, which was beastly , bad form to- say the least of it.” “ How came he to, ggt into the ‘ Elec tric,’ ” says the Duke. “ For his father’s sake I fancy; no other reason. But did you hear the latest on dit about the fellow ? It is said ho is not Sir Launcelot ArrayUgn’s son. I heard last night there is to be a trial. jTho lawyers have plenty of ma terial and evidence to prove ho is an im postor.” “ Bless me, you don’t say so, Th°n whore is the real heir. The Hubert ' Armytage I remember was as nice' a young fellow as one would wish to meet. His father all over. “ Mnrdered[it is said, some years ago,” said the Colonel, “ God bless my soul, how terrible 1 ” said the Dako. “ Sir Launcelot was murdered ia his bed you know, and ta think that his only son should have fallen a victim also; seems almost incredible.” Mrs. Annaylaye and Mrs. Portescue, both with heightened color and beating hearts, had overheard the conversation, but could not steady their voices suf ficiently to J ask any questions, much as their curiosity had been raised. There was a movement at the upper end of the table, arid the ladies trooped away to the drawing room, Lord Vere kor opening the door for them, and as Vera passed he noticed how serious her face had become, and wondered at thp change»_for..though-they hnd.been at the different poles as to places at 'dinner, he had watched her, and with gladness had noted how jolly and amused his dear old father had looked when chatting away with Vera—her lovely face lighted up with animation. “ Marcus wants you to come and talk to him. if you will, Mrs. Anneylnye,” said Lady Adela, crossing the room to where the widow had taken' her seat. “ is not so well to day, poor fellow.” . Marne was lying on a low couch by the window, a living picture of suffering, from which there would be no release till death. Vera was an especial favorite of his, and his wan face lighted up at her approach.* They had only ‘known each o'her so short a time, but in the few weeks the Earl had learnt to lave Vera for her own sake as .much as for his brother’s. She was so ’ gentle, so graceful in all her movements,'a great charm to an invalid, and the Earl agaimt all remonstrance on the part of Lady Adela, would some times .send for Mrs. Anneylaye to spend an hour or two with him, when sh»» would do her best to amuse him by conr jversation on some intereating-book. He reminded her so much of poor Hubert during his- illness, and more so. than ever this evening. “ How good of you,” he said, putting out both hjs thin hands as if to doubly welcome his sweet friend, “ And .tell me all about tile dinner, and how did you got on with Colonel Vandeleur? Curious fish, is he not? Do you know he is a splendid example of a man who often says things that would have been bettor left unsaid. I hope ho behaved himself •for once, arid did not shock you in any way by any lapsns Jingnto.” “ N-no, oh, no; wo talked about Aus tralia mostly. He was rather amusing,” said Vera. “Australia, ah 1” said the sick man sadly ; “ Australia, do you know since Dolly first come home 1 have longed to see Australia; but that is over over.*’ “ 6li, no, do not say so ; you may get strong enough to travel.. The voyage is easy—it is nothing.” “You will never go back—-I hope not. You cannot; Dolly: would never part with you,” lie. whispered. . She shook her head mournfully. “ I shall tell Dolly if ho doesn't look sharp I'll cut him rat and marry you myself. Pancy having a husband ns helpless as an * Hiufant,' ns I heard an old woman 'in the village say ,of your bumble servant. No, no, I mustn't joke ; it is no laughing matter that of being a hopless encumbrance in the family. If I could only manage to sit bolt upright 1 should not so much mind, la Adela more companionable and less disagreeable ? ” “ Yes, she is much nicer to riie since you came. Ido not blame her for hating ipe. I shoold hate anyone I fancy i they stole my favorite, brothers heart away, but I assure you, Lord Marne, it was not my tinlt:” ; . ' “No, you- wouldn’t,, you cpuld not •hate, and Adela (toes not hate. I know she Lkes you- and admires you im mensely. I heard her praising you up to tho Dorwer's girls yesterday, , only she has ay queer way of showing you* her love —•sbo is such an awful tease, but good at’ heart.’ It .is .very good of you to .. come and cheer 4 ms up iri my, dull corner, I al ways call you Say. and, Dolly 'actually got jealous about it; he did, poor old Dolly. ' Fancy being jealous of jne, a poor follow crippled, for life, and a short life:. -1 soo yoa aro wearing .my favorite flowers, lilies df‘th# valley.” * “Yes, Lord Rudolph seat, them to ime he knows my taste you see—-they are lovely.” ... ;. . “ Lord Rudolph 1 Do you“ call f him Lord Rudolph, I l 'wouldn't allow it if I were., Dolly.”... :s v , , .7 . .. ;‘l I. sometimes call- him- Lord Vorokor -for fa’ ohringe,'':sho .said-riddently, y 7'y,

“ Why not ‘ Dolly,' I must talk seriously, about it to my brother. Ah, there he is now, I will relieve you, upon the promise that you will ‘come for a a drive with me to-raprrdw. I assure you I shall not hurt your feelings. No ,000 knows but that I a dashing young Tallow''' able to walk across country .or dance a hornpipe. Tho carriage is so built that X only appear gacefully re clining at my ease, and tho rugs do the rest. Shall wo take Dolly ? Yes, wo will take Dolly. Ho might pine away and die if we left him behind. I’ll call for you at three, ia that too early ? The days are still chilly towards evening. We will drivn to Row or Richmond, and have tea by the river. All. niy days on the river are over. Ah mo 1 What jolly day>wa used . to have, Dolly and I; at Richmond and Henley. Ah me! Ah ?me !” , It was.a pleasant sight to see the de votion the brothers kid for * each other. The love of the Earl for his younger brother “ passing the love of women” in iis depths. They had bcon at Eton' together,. at; college logether, and had never been separated till Lord Vereker was ordered to a warm plimate after an illness, but hii absence seemed to have cemented (heir affection more closely. ‘ The accident to Lord Marne had brought no change. Lord Vereker, as before, remained his brother’s loving companion, and softened many a tedious hour of suffering to the poor invalid. The Earl had taken Vera to bis heart a* ouce for Ills brother’s sake, long before be had even seen her. He believed so firmly in his young brother’s taste and choice.of a wife. Nor was the Earl dis-. appointed. Vera Anneyleye bad more than satisfied fits expectations. He was very anxious for tfie marriage.