Our Admirable Betty: A Romance

Jeffery Farnol

Description

A sweet, light-hearted, romantic comedy. The characters come alive with dialogue and crisp, minimal description. Betty, with the droop of her lashes and the stamp of her little foot, is one of the most likable—no, admirable—female characters you will ever come across in fiction. If only Betty's like her existed in real life...

Sujets

• Romance historique
• Historical
• Regency
• Romance
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Rare Treasure Editions
• Date de parution: 16 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9781773236322
• Langue: English

Extrait

Our Admirable Betty: A Romance
by Jeffery Farnol

First published in 1918
This edition published by Rare Treasures
Victoria, BC Canada with branch offices in the Czech Republic and Germany
[e-mail]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except in the case of excerpts by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
OUR ADMIRABLE BETTY
A ROMANCE



BY JEFFERY FARNOL

TO MY MOTHER

CHAPTER I
CONCERNING THE MAJOR'S CHERRIES
"The Major, mam, the Major has a truly wonderful 'ead!" said SergeantZebedee Tring as he stood, hammer in hand, very neat and precise frombroad shoe-buckles to smart curled wig that offset his square, bronzedface.
"Head, Sergeant, head!" retorted pretty, dimpled Mrs. Agatha, noddingat the Sergeant's broad back.
"'Ead mam, yes!" said the Sergeant, busily nailing up a branch of theMajor's favourite cherry tree. "The Major has a truly wonderful 'ead,regarding which I take liberty to ob-serve as two sword-cuts and aspent bullet have in nowise affected it, Mrs. Agatha, mam, which is afact as I will maintain whenever and wherever occasion demands, as indooty bound mam, dooty bound."
"Duty, Sergeant, duty!"
"Dooty, mam—pre-cisely." Here the Sergeant turning round for anothernail, Mrs. Agatha bent over the rose-bush, her busy fingers cutting abloom here and another there and her pretty face quite hidden in theshade of her mob-cap.
"Indeed," she continued, after a while, "'tis no wonder you be sovery—fond of him, Sergeant!"
"Fond of him, mam, fond of him," said the Sergeant turning to look ather with glowing eyes, "well—yes, I suppose so—it do be a—a mattero' dooty with me—dooty, Mrs. Agatha, mam."
"You mean duty, Sergeant."
"Dooty, mam, pre-cisely!" nodded the Sergeant, busy at the cherry treeagain.
"See how very brave he is!" sighed Mrs. Agatha.
"Brave, mam?" The Sergeant paused with his hammer poised—"Sixteenwounds, mam, seven of 'em bullet and the rest steel! Twenty and threepitched battles besides outpost skirmishes and the like and 'twere hishonour the Major as saved our left wing at Ramillies. Brave, mam?Well—yes, he's brave."
"And how kind and gentle he is!"
"Because, mam, because the best soldiers always are."
"And you, Sergeant, see what care you take of him."
"Why, I try, mam, I try. Y'see, we've soldiered together so many yearsand I've been his man so long that 'tis become a matter o'——"
"Of duty, Sergeant—yes, of course!"
"Dooty, mam—pre-cisely!" nodded the Sergeant.
"Pre-cisely, Sergeant and, lack-a-day, how miserable and wretched youboth are!"
The Sergeant looked startled.
"And the strange thing is you don't know it," said Mrs. Agatha,snipping off a final rose.
The Sergeant rubbed his square, clean-shaven chin and stared at herharder than ever.
"See how monstrous lonely you are!" sighed Mrs. Agatha, hiding her faceamong her newly-gathered blooms, a face as sweet and fresh as any ofthem, despite the silver that gleamed, here and there, beneath hersnowy mob-cap.
"Lonely?" said the Sergeant, staring from her to the hammer in hishand, "lonely, why no mam, no. The Major's got his flowers and hischerries and his great History of Fortification as he's a-writing of inten vollums and I've got the Major and we've both got—got——
"Well, what, Sergeant?"
The Sergeant turned and began to nail up another branch of the greatcherry tree, ere he answered:
"You, mam—we've both got—you, mam—"
"Lud, Sergeant Tring, and how may that be?"
"To teach," continued the Sergeant slowly, "to teach two battered oldsoldiers, as never knew it afore, what a home might be. There neverwas such a housekeeper as you, mam, there never will be!"
"A home!" repeated Mrs. Agatha softly. "'Tis a sweet word!"
"True, mam, true!" nodded the Sergeant emphatically. "'Specially towe, mam, us never having had no homes, d'ye see. His honour and mehave been campaigning most of our days—soldiers o' fortune, mam,though there weren't much fortune in it for us except hard knocks—asaddle for a piller, earth for bed and sometimes a damned—no, a—dampbed, mam, the sky for roof——"
"But you be come home at last, Sergeant," said Mrs. Agatha softer thanever.
"Home? Aye, thanks to his honour's legacy as came so sudden andunexpected. Here's us two battered old soldiers comes marching alongand finds this here noble mansion a-waiting for us full o' furnitureand picters and works o' hart——"
"Art, Sergeant!"
"Aye, hart, mam—pre-cisely—and other knick-knacks and treasures andamong 'em—best and brightest——"
"Well, Sergeant?"
"Among 'em—you, mam!" said he; and here, aiming a somewhat random blowwith the hammer he hit himself on the thumb and swore. Whereon Mrs.Agatha, having duly reproved him, was for examining the injured memberbut, shaking his head, he sucked it fiercely instead and thereafterproceeded to hammer away harder than ever.
"But then—you are—neither of you so very—old, Sergeant."
"The Major was thirty-one the day Ramillies was fought and I wasthirty-three—and that was ten years agone mam."
"And you are both monstrous young for your age—so straight andupright—and handsome. Y-e-e-s, the Major is very handsome—despitethe scar on his cheek—the wonder to me is that he don't get married."
Hereupon the Sergeant dropped the hammer.
"As to yourself, Sergeant," pursued Mrs. Agatha, her bright eyesbrim-full of mischief, "you'll never be really happy and content untilyou do."
Hereupon the Sergeant stooped for the hammer and seemed uncommonly redin the face about it.
"As to that mam," said he, a thought more ponderously than usual, "asto that, I shall never look for a wife until the Major does, it hasbecome a matter o'——"
"Duty, of course, Sergeant!"
"Of dooty, mam—pre-cisely!" Saying which, the Sergeant turned to hiswork again; but, chancing to lift his gaze to a certain lofty branchthat crawled along the wall just beneath the coping, he fell back apace and uttered a sudden exclamation:
" Sacré bleu! "
"Lud, Sergeant!" cried Mrs. Agatha, clasping her posy to her bosom andgiving voice to a small, a very small scream, "how you do fright onewith your outlandish words! What ails the man—there be no Frenchmenhere to fight—speak English, Sergeant—do!"
"Zounds!" exclaimed the Sergeant with his gaze still fixed.
"Sergeant—pray don't oathe!"
"But zookers, mam——!"
"Sergeant—ha' done, I say!"
"But damme, Mrs. Agatha mam, asking your pardon, I'm sure—but don't yesee—he's been at 'em again! The three best clusters on thetree—gone, mam, gone! Stole, Mrs. Agatha mam, 'twixt now and twelveo'clock noon——"
"O Gemini, the wretch!"
"I'll take my oath them cherries was a-blowing not an hour agone, mam,on that branch atop the wall!"
"Who could ha' done it?"
"Not knowing, mam, can't say, but this last week the rogue has capturedfourteen squads of our best cherries—off this one tree, and this, asyou know, Mrs. Agatha mam, be the Major's favourite tree! So I say,mam, whoever the villain be, I say—damn him, Mrs. Agatha mam!"
"Fie—fie, Sergeant, swearing will not mend matters."
"Maybe not, mam, maybe not, but same does me a power o' good! Egad,when I mind how I've watched and tended them particular cherries Mrs.Agatha I could——"
"Then don't, Sergeant!"
"What beats me," said he, rubbing his square chin with the shaft of thehammer, "what beats me is—how did he do it? Must be uncommonly longin the arms and legs to reach so high unless he used a pole——"
"Or a ladder?" suggested Mrs. Agatha.
"Meaning he did it by escalade, mam? Hum—no, I see no signs ofscaling ladders mam and the ground is soft, d'ye see? But a polenow——"
"Or a ladder—on the other side of the wall, Sergeant——"
"B'gad, mam!" he exclaimed. "I believe you're right—though to be surethe house next door is empty."
"Was!" corrected Mrs. Agatha. "Lud, Sergeant, there's a great ladyfrom London been living there a month and more with a houseful oflackeys and servants."
"Ha, a month, mam? Lackeys and servants say you? B'gad, say I, that'sthem! Must report this to the Major. Must report at once!" and theSergeant laid down his hammer.
"And where is the Major?"
"Mam," said the Sergeant, consulting a large, brass chronometer, "thehour is pre-cisely three-fourteen, consequently he is now a-sitting inhis Ramillie coat a-writing of his History of Fortification—in tenvollums."
"'Twill be pity to wake him!" sighed Mrs. Agatha.
"Wake him?" repeated the Sergeant, staring; whereupon Mrs. Agathalaughed and went her way while he continued to stare after her untilher trim figure and snowy mob-cap had vanished behind the yew-hedge.
Then the Sergeant sighed, reached for his coat, put it on, adjusted histall, leathern stock, sighed again and turning sharp about, marchedinto the house.
CHAPTER II
INTRODUCING THE RAVISHER OF THE SAME
Major John D'Arcy was hard at work on his book (that is to say, he hadbeen, for divers plans and papers littered the table before him) butjust now he leaned far back in his elbow-chair, long legs stretchedout, deep-plunged in balmy slumber; perceiving which the Sergeanthalted suddenly, stood at ease and stared.
The Major's great black peruke dangled from the chair-back, and hisclose-cropped head (already something grizzled at the temples) wasbowed upon his broad chest, wherefore, ever and anon, he snored gently.The Major was forty-one but just now as he sat lost in the oblivion ofsleep he looked thirty; but then again when he strode gravely to andfro in his old service coat (limping a little by reason of an oldwound) and with black brows wrinkled in sober thought he looked fiftyat the least.
Thus he continued to sleep and the Sergeant to stare until presently,choking upon a snore, the Major opened his eyes and sat up briskly,whereupon the Sergeant immediately came to attention.
"Ha, Zeb!" exclaimed the Major in mild wonder, "what is it, S