The Wyvern Mystery

By J. Sheridan Le Fanu.

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I

Alice Maybell

In the small breakfast parlour of Oulton, a pretty girl, Miss Alice Maybell, with her furs and wrappers about her, and a journey of forty miles before her⁠—not by rail⁠—to Wyvern, had stood up to hug and kiss her old aunt, and bid her goodbye.

“Now, do sit down again; you need not be in such a hurry⁠—you’re not to go for ten minutes or more,” said the old lady; “do, there’s a darling.”

“If I’m not home before the sun goes down, aunt, Mr. Fairfield will be so angry,” said the girl, laying a hand on each shoulder of kind old Lady Wyndale, and looking fondly, but also sadly, into her face.

“Which Mr. Fairfield, dear⁠—the old or the young one?”

“Old Mr. Fairfield, the Squire, as we call him at Wyvern. He’ll really be angry, and I’m a little bit afraid of him, and I would not vex him for the world⁠—he has always been so kind.”

As she answered, the young lady blushed a beautiful crimson, and the old lady, not observing it, said⁠—

“Indeed, I don’t know why I said young⁠—young Mr. Fairfield is old enough, I think, to be your father; but I want to know how you liked Lord Tremaine. I told you how much he liked you. I’m a great believer in first impressions. He was so charmed with you, when he saw you in Wyvern Church. Of course he ought to have been thinking of something better; but no matter⁠—the fact was so, and now he is, I really think, in love⁠—very much⁠—and who knows? He’s such a charming person, and there is everything to make it⁠—I don’t know what word to use⁠—but you know Tremaine is quite a beautiful place, and he does not owe a guinea.”

“You dear old auntie,” said the girl, kissing her again on the cheek, “wicked old darling⁠—always making great matches for me. If you had remained in India, you’d have married me, I’m sure, to a native prince.”

“Native fiddlestick; of course I could if I had liked, but you never should have married a Mahomedan with my consent. Never mind though; you’re sure to do well; marriages are made in heaven, and I really believe there is no use in plotting and planning. There was your darling mamma, when we were both girls together, I said I should never consent to marry a soldier or live out of England, and I did marry a soldier, and lived twelve years of my life

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