The Three Brides | Page 4

since I put in
temporary lodgers like you.--Now Cecil is housed as you preferred,
Raymond--in the wainscot-rooms."
"And where have you put that poor Mrs. Miles?" asked Raymond. "She
looks quite knocked up."
"Yes, she has been very ill on the voyage, and waited at Southampton
to gather strength for the journey.--I am so grateful to your good Rose,
Julius.--Why, where is the boy? Vanished in her wake, I declare!"
"His venerable head is quite turned," said Frank. "I had to get inside
alone, and let them drive home outside together to avoid separation."
Raymond repeated his question as to the quarters of Miles's wife.
"I had the old schoolroom and the bedroom adjoining newly fitted up,"
answered Mrs. Poynsett. "Jenny Bowater was here yesterday, and gave
the finishing touches. She tells me the rooms look very nice.-- Cecil,
my dear, you must excuse deficiencies; I shall look to you in future."
"I hope to manage well," said Cecil. "Had I not better go up now? Will
you show me the way, Raymond?"
The mother and her two younger sons remained.
"Haven't I brought you home a splendid article?" was Frank's
exclamation. "Julius has got the best of it."

"I back my Cape Gooseberry," returned Charles. "She has eyes and hair
and skin that my Lady can't match, and is a fine figure of a woman
besides."
"Much you know of Rosamond's eyes!"
"Or you either, boxed up in the van."
"Any way, they have made roast meat of his Reverence's heart! The
other two take it much more easily."
"She's a mere chicken," said Charlie. "Who would have thought of
Raymond being caught by a callow nestling?"
"And so uncommonly cool," added Frank.
"It would take much to transform Raymond," interposed the mother.
"Now, boys, away with you; I must have a little quiet, to repair myself
for company after dinner."
Charlie settled her cushions with womanly skill, and followed his
brother. "Well, Frank, which is the White Cat? Ah, I thought so-- she's
yet to come."
"Not one is fit to hold a candle to her. You saw that as plain as I did,
Charlie; Eleonora beats them all."
"Ah, you're not the youngest brother, remember. It was he who brought
her home at last. Come, you need not knock me down; I shall never see
any one to surpass the mother, and I'll have no one till I do."
CHAPTER II
The Population of Compton Poynsett
He wanted a wife his braw hoose to keep, But favour wi' wooin' was
fashous to seek.--Laird o' Cockpen
In the bright lamplight of the dining-table, the new population first

fully beheld one another, and understood one another's looks.
There was much family resemblance between the five brothers. All
were well-grown well-made men, strong and agile, the countenance
pleasing, rather square of mould, eyebrows straight and thick, nose well
cut and short, chin firm and resolute-looking, and the complexion very
dark in Raymond, Frank, and the absent Miles. Frank's eyes were soft,
brown, rather pensive, and absent in expression; but Raymond's were
much deeper and darker, and had a steadfast gravity, that made him be
viewed as formidable, especially as he had lost all the youthful glow of
colouring that mantled in his brother's olive cheek; and he had a short,
thick, curly brown beard, while Frank had only attained to a black
moustache, that might almost have been drawn on his lip with charcoal.
Charlie was an exception--fair, blue-eyed, rosy, and with a soft
feminine contour of visage, which had often drawn on him reproaches
for not being really the daughter all his mother's friends desired for her.
And Julius, with the outlines of the others, was Albino, with transparent
skin mantling with colour that contrasted with his snowy hair,
eyebrows, and the lashes, veiling eyes of a curious coral hue, really not
unpleasing under their thick white fringes, but most inconveniently
short of sight, although capable of much work; in fact, he was a
curiously perfect pink-and-white edition of his dark and bronzed
brother the sailor.
The dark eyes came from the father's side; Cecil had them, and very
observing orbs they seemed to be, travelling about from one face to
another, and into every corner of the room, scrutinizing every picture or
piece of plate, and trying to see into the conservatory, which had a glass
door opening from one end of the room. She was the youngest of the
brides, and her features and form seemed hardly developed, nor had she
attained the air of a matron; her fashionable dress of crisp white worked
muslin with blue trimmings, and blue ribbons in her brown hair, only
gave her the air of a young girl at her first party, in spite of her freedom
from all shyness as she sat