CHAPTER III.
_Which Ferdinand Returns to Armine_.
IT WAS settled that a year must elapse from the death of Lord Grandisonbefore the young couple could be united: a reprieve which did notoccasion Ferdinand acute grief. In the meantime the Grandisons wereto pass at least the autumn at Armine, and thither the united familiesproposed soon to direct their progress. Ferdinand, who had been nearlytwo months at Bath, and was a little wearied of courtship, contrived toquit that city before his friends, on the plea of visiting London, toarrange about selling his commission; for it was agreed that he shouldquit the army.
On his arrival in London, having spoken to his agent, and finding townquite empty, he set off immediately for Armine, in order that he mighthave the pleasure of being there a few days without the society of hisintended; celebrate the impending first of September; and, especially,embrace his dear Glastonbury. For it must not be supposed that Ferdinandhad forgotten for a moment this invaluable friend; on the contrary, hehad written to him several times since his arrival: always assuring himthat nothing but important business could prevent him from instantlypaying him his respects.
It was with feelings of no common emotion, even of agitation, thatFerdinand beheld the woods of his ancient home rise in the distance, andsoon the towers and turrets of Armine Castle. Those venerable bowers,that proud and lordly house, were not then to pass away from their oldand famous line? He had redeemed the heritage of his great ancestry; helooked with unmingled complacency on the magnificent landscape, onceto him a source of as much anxiety as affection. What a change inthe destiny of the Armines! Their glory restored; his own devoted anddomestic hearth, once the prey of so much care and gloom, crowned withease and happiness and joy; on all sides a career of splendour andfelicity. And _he_ had done all this! What a prophet was his mother!She had ever indulged the fond conviction that her beloved, son wouldbe their restorer. How wise and pious was the undeviating confidence ofkind old Glastonbury in their fate! With what pure, what heart-feltdelight, would that faithful friend listen to his extraordinarycommunication!
His carriage dashed through the park gates as if the driver weresensible of his master's pride and exultation. Glastonbury was ready towelcome him, standing in the flower-garden, which he had made so richand beautiful, and which had been the charm and consolation of many oftheir humbler hours.
'My dear, dear father!' exclaimed Ferdinand, embracing him, for thus heever styled his old tutor.
But Glastonbury could not speak; the tears quivered in his eyes andtrickled down his faded cheek. Ferdinand led him into the house.
'How well you look, dear father!' continued Ferdinand; 'you really lookyounger and heartier than ever. You received all my letters, I am sure;and yours, how kind of you to remember and to write to me! I neverforgot you, my dear, dear friend. I never could forget you. Do you knowI am the happiest fellow in the world? I have the greatest news in theworld to tell my Glastonbury--and we owe everything to you, everything.What would Sir Ratcliffe have been without you? what should I have been?Fancy the best news you can, dear friend, and it is not so good as Ihave got to tell. You will rejoice, you will be delighted! We shallfurnish a castle! by Jove we shall furnish a castle! We shall indeed,and you shall build it! No more gloom; no more care. The Armines shallhold their heads up again, by Jove they shall! Dearest of men, I daresay you think me mad. I am mad with joy. How that Virginian creeper hasgrown! I have brought you so many plants, my father! a complete SicilianHortus Siccus. Ah, John, good John, how is your wife? Take care of mypistol-case. Ask Louis; he knows all about everything. Well, dearGlastonbury, and how have you been? How is the old tower? How are theold books, and the old staff, and the old arms, and the old everything?Dear, dear Glastonbury!'
While the carriage was unpacking, and the dinner-table prepared, thefriends walked in the garden, and from thence strolled towards thetower, where they remained some time pacing up and down the beechenavenue. It was evident, on their return, that Ferdinand had communicatedhis great intelligence. The countenance of Glastonbury was radiant withdelight.
Indeed, although he had dined, he accepted with readiness Ferdinand'sinvitation to repeat the ceremony; nay, he quaffed more than one glassof wine; and, I believe, even drank the health of every member ofthe united families of Armine and Grandison. It was late before thecompanions parted, and retired for the night; and I think, beforethey bade each other good night, they must have talked over everycircumstance that had occurred in their experience since the birth ofFerdinand.
Henrietta Temple: A Love Story Page 13