The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900 ... - Gredos

The Salamanca Corpus: Yeoman Fleetwood (1900)
for more than two hundred years, but at what particular period Simon's forefathers had
purchased the freehold of their lands he had never cared to ascertain. He liked, however,
sometimes to meditate on the antiquity of his home; as he approached it now he gazed
contentedly at its quaint gables, and wide small-paned windows, from some of which
such ruddy streams of light were issuing. So ruddy, indeed, was that which proceeded
from the long
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line of windows in the oak-parlour that he was a little astonished. It wanted yet three
weeks of November, and such a thing as a fire between April and November was
unheard of under Miss Belinda's regime. He had actually the curiosity to make a circuit
round the horseblock, and peer in at one of those uncurtained casements. Two pairs of
tall "mould” candles were actually burning in the polished brass candlesticks on
mantelshelf and sideboard, and there was a fire — a roaring, crackling log fire on the
wide hearth. His aunt was standing with her back to the window, her head with its high
comb bobbing and waggling in evident agitation and excitement. His father's carved
high-backed chair was wheeled forward close to the glowing hearth, but it was empty,
save for a long cloak which had been thrown across it. Basking in the comfortable
radiance of the fire lay two great dogs, and as Simon peered in he could see the steam
rising from their damp, curly coats. On the farther side of the hearth, directly facing
him, a lady was standing with one little foot poised on the high brass fender, and
holding in her hand a large black hat, the draggled feathers of which she was shaking
out before the blaze. For a moment Simon thought the visitor was Madam Charnock;
but he recollected himself with a smile. It was, indeed, two years since he had seen that
lady, but her figure was not so tall, and could never have been, he thought, so slender;
and though the little head with its clustering dark curls bore some resemblance to what
hers had been when he first beheld her, the face with all its beauty, was more unlike
than like that of the Squire's foreign bride. Simon stood rooted to the ground, and his
heart began to beat with a sudden inexplicable emotion. Did the first sight of Rachel
Charnock standing by his own hearth cause him to feel most joy or pain? How long he
remained immovable,