Henrietta Temple Part 7

The lady rather started; the gentleman, not at all discomposed, courteously welcomed Ferdinand, and said, 'I feel that we are intruders, sir. But we were informed by the woman at the lodge that the family were not here at present, and that we should find her husband in the grounds.'

'The family are not at Armine,' replied Ferdinand; 'I am sure, however, Sir Ratcliffe would be most happy for you to walk about the grounds as much as you please; and as I am well acquainted with them, I should feel delighted to be your guide.'

'You are really too courteous, sir,' replied the gentleman; and his beautiful companion rewarded Ferdinand with a smile like a sunbeam, that played about her countenance till it finally settled into two exquisite dimples, and revealed to him teeth that, for a moment, he believed to be even the most beautiful feature of that surpa.s.sing visage.

They sauntered along, every step developing new beauties in their progress and eliciting from his companions renewed expressions of rapture. The dim bowers, the shining glades, the tall rare trees, the luxuriant shrubs, the silent and sequestered lake, in turn enchanted them, until at length, Ferdinand, who had led them with experienced taste through all the most striking points of the pleasaunce, brought them before the walls of the castle.

'And here is Armine Castle,' he said; 'it is little better than a sh.e.l.l, and yet contains something which you might like to see.'

'Oh! by all means,' exclaimed the lady.

'But we are spoiling your sport,' suggested the gentleman.

'I can always kill partridges,' replied Ferdinand, laying down his gun; 'but I cannot always find agreeable companions.'

So saying, he opened the ma.s.sy portal of the castle and they entered the hall. It was a lofty chamber, of dimensions large enough to feast a thousand va.s.sals, with a dais and a rich Gothic screen, and a gallery for the musicians. The walls were hung with arms and armour admirably arranged; but the parti-coloured marble floor was so covered with piled-up cases of furniture that the general effect of the scene, was not only greatly marred, but it was even difficult in some parts to trace a path.

'Here,' said Ferdinand, jumping upon a huge case and running to the wall, 'here is the standard of Ralph d'Ermyn, who came over with the Conqueror, and founded the family in England. Here is the sword of William d'Armyn, who signed Magna Carta. Here is the complete coat armour of the second Ralph, who died before Ascalon. This case contains a diamond-hilted sword, given by the Empress to the great Sir Ferdinand for defeating the Turks; and here is a Mameluke sabre, given to the same Sir Ferdinand by the Sultan for defeating the Empress.'

'Oh! I have heard so much of that great Sir Ferdinand,' said the lady.

'He must have been the most interesting character.'

'He was a marvellous being,' answered her guide, with a peculiar look, 'and yet I know not whether his descendants have not cause to rue his genius.'

'Oh! never, never!' said the lady; 'what is wealth to genius? How much prouder, were I an Armine, should I be of such an ancestor than of a thousand others, even if they had left me this castle as complete as he wished it to be!'

'Well, as to that,' replied Ferdinand, 'I believe I am somewhat of your opinion; though I fear he lived in too late an age for such order of minds. It would have been better for him perhaps if he had succeeded in becoming King of Poland.'

'I hope there is a portrait of him,' said the lady; 'there is nothing I long so much to see.'

'I rather think there is a portrait,' replied her companion, somewhat drily. 'We will try to find it out. Do not you think I make not a bad cicerone?'

'Indeed, most excellent,' replied the lady.

'I perceive you are a master of your subject,' replied the gentleman, thus affording Ferdinand an easy opportunity of telling them who he was.

The hint, however, was not accepted.

'And now,' said Ferdinand, 'we will ascend the staircase.'

Accordingly they mounted a large spiral staircase which filled the s.p.a.ce of a round tower, and was lighted from the top by a lantern of rich, coloured gla.s.s on which were emblazoned the arms of the family. Then they entered the vestibule, an apartment s.p.a.cious enough for a salon; which, however, was not fitted up in the Gothic style, but of which the painted ceiling, the gilded panels, and inlaid floor were more suitable to a French palace. The brilliant doors of this vestibule opened in many directions upon long suites of state chambers, which indeed merited the description of sh.e.l.ls. They were nothing more; of many the flooring was not even laid down; the walls of all were rough and plastered.

'Ah!' said the lady, 'what a pity it is not finished!'

'It is indeed desolate,' observed Ferdinand; 'but here perhaps is something more to your taste.' So saying, he opened another door and ushered them into the picture gallery.

It was a superb chamber nearly two hundred feet in length, and contained only portraits of the family, or pictures of their achievements. It was of a pale green colour, lighted from the top; and the floor, of oak and ebony, was partially covered with a single Persian carpet, of fanciful pattern and brilliant dye, a present from the Sultan to the great Sir Ferdinand. The earlier annals of the family were ill.u.s.trated by a series of paintings by modern masters, representing the battle of Hastings, the siege of Ascalon, the meeting at Runnymede, the various invasions of France, and some of the most striking incidents in the Wars of the Roses, in all of which a valiant Armyn prominently figured. At length they stood before the first contemporary portrait of the Armyn family, one of Cardinal Stephen Armyn, by an Italian master. This great dignitary was legate of the Pope in the time of the seventh Henry, and in his scarlet robes and ivory chair looked a papal Jupiter, not unworthy himself of wielding the thunder of the Vatican. From him the series of family portraits was unbroken; and it was very interesting to trace, in this excellently arranged collection, the history of national costume. Holbein had commemorated the Lords Tewkesbury, rich in velvet, and golden chains, and jewels. The statesmen of Elizabeth and James, and their beautiful and gorgeous dames, followed; and then came many a gallant cavalier, by Vand.y.k.e. One admirable picture contained Lord Armine and his brave brothers, seated together in a tent round a drum, on which his lordship was apparently planning the operations of the campaign. Then followed a long series of un-memorable baronets, and their more interesting wives and daughters, touched by the pencil of Kneller, of Lely, or of Hudson; squires in wigs and scarlet jackets, and powdered dames in hoops and farthingales.

They stood before the crowning effort of the gallery, the masterpiece of Reynolds. It represented a full-length portrait of a young man, apparently just past his minority. The side of the figure was alone exhibited, and the face glanced at the spectator over the shoulder, in a favourite att.i.tude of Vand.y.k.e. It was a countenance of ideal beauty. A profusion of dark brown curls was dashed aside from a lofty forehead of dazzling brilliancy. The face was perfectly oval; the nose, though small was high and aquiline, and exhibited a remarkable dilation of the nostril; the curling lip was shaded by a very delicate mustache; and the general expression, indeed, of the mouth and of the large grey eyes would have been perhaps arrogant and imperious, had not the extraordinary beauty of the whole countenance rendered it fascinating.

It was indeed a picture to gaze upon and to return to; one of those visages which, after having once beheld, haunt us at all hours and flit across our mind's eye unexpected and unbidden. So great was the effect that it produced upon the present visitors to the gallery, that they stood before it for some minutes in silence; the scrutinising glance of the gentleman was more than once diverted from the portrait to the countenance of his conductor, and the silence was eventually broken by our hero.

'And what think you,' he enquired, 'of the famous Sir Ferdinand?'

The lady started, looked at him, withdrew her glance, and appeared somewhat confused. Her companion replied, 'I think, sir, I cannot err in believing that I am indebted for much courtesy to his descendant?'

'I believe,' said Ferdinand, 'that I should not have much trouble in proving my pedigree. I am generally considered an ugly likeness of my grandfather.'

The gentleman smiled, and then said, 'I hardly know whether I can style myself your neighbour, for I live nearly ten miles distant. It would, however, afford me sincere gratification to see you at Ducie Bower.

I cannot welcome you in a castle. My name is Temple,' he continued, offering his card to Ferdinand. 'I need not now introduce you to my daughter. I was not unaware that Sir Ratcliffe Armine had a son, but I had understood he was abroad.'

'I have returned to England within these two months,' replied Ferdinand, 'and to Armine within these two days. I deem it fortunate that my return has afforded me an opportunity of welcoming you and Miss Temple. But you must not talk of our castle, for that you know is our folly. Pray come now and visit our older and humbler dwelling, and take some refreshment after your long ride.'

This offer was declined, but with great courtesy. They quitted the castle, and Mr. Temple was about to direct his steps towards the lodge, where he had left his own and his daughter's horses; but Ferdinand persuaded them to return through the park, which he proved to them very satisfactorily must be the nearest way. He even asked permission to accompany them; and while his groom was saddling his horse he led them to the old Place and the flower-garden.

'You must be very fatigued, Miss Temple. I wish that I could persuade you to enter and rest yourself.'

'Indeed, no: I love flowers too much to leave them.'

'Here is one that has the recommendation of novelty as well as beauty,'

said Ferdinand, plucking a strange rose, and presenting it to her. 'I sent it to my mother from Barbary.'

'You live amidst beauty.'

'I think that I never remember Armine looking so well as to-day.'

'A sylvan scene requires sunshine,' replied Miss Temple. 'We have been most fortunate in our visit.'

'It is something brighter than the sunshine that makes it so fair,'

replied Ferdinand; but at this moment the horses appeared.

CHAPTER V.

_In Which Captain Armine Is Very Absent during Dinner_.

YOU are well mounted,' said Mr. Temple to Ferdinand.

''Tis a barb. I brought it over with me.'

''Tis a beautiful creature,' said Miss Temple.

'Hear that, Selim,' said Ferdinand; 'p.r.i.c.k up thine ears, my steed. I perceive that you are an accomplished horsewoman, Miss Temple. You know our country, I dare say, well?'

'I wish to know it better. This is only the second summer that we have pa.s.sed at Ducie.'

'By-the-bye, I suppose you know my landlord, Captain Armine?' said Mr.

Temple.