The Coryston Family - A Novel

Humphry Ward

Informations

• Publié par: movos
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 41
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 4 Mo

Extrait

The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Coryston Family, by Mrs. Humphry Ward Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission. Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** **eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** *****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** Title: The Coryston Family Author: Mrs. Humphry Ward Release Date: December, 2005 [EBook #9507] [This file was first posted on October 7, 2003] Edition: 10 Language: English Character set encoding: iso-8859-1 *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE CORYSTON FAMILY *** E-text prepared by Andrew Templeton, Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci, Tonya Allen, and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders THE CORYSTON FAMILY A NOVEL BY MRS. HUMPHRY WARD ILLUSTRATED BY ELIZABETH SHIPPEN GREEN 1913 TO G.M.T. AND J.P.T. CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XIV CHAPTER XV CHAPTER XVI ILLUSTRATIONS "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN CONCOCTING THIS, MOTHER?" Frontispiece THE CONVERSATION DROPPED, JUST AS THE VOICE OF THE ORATOR ROSE TO HIS PERORATION AS SHE SAW MARCIA HER FACE LIT UP THIS MORNING HE FOUND HER ALL GIRLISH GENTLENESS AND APPEAL "I DO WISH I COULD HELP YOU" MARCIA WAS SINGING, IN A LOW VOICE AS SHE CAME HE SAT STILL, STUDYING HIS MOTHER'S STRONG, LINED FACE NOW SUDDENLY—HERE WAS A FRIEND—ON WHOM TO LEAN Book I LADY CORYSTON [Greek: turannon einai moria kai tonthelein.] CHAPTER I The hands of the clock on the front of the Strangers' Gallery were nearing six. The longexpected introductory speech of the Minister in charge of the new Land Bill was over, and the leader of the Opposition was on his feet. The House of Commons was full and excited. The side galleries were no less crowded than the benches below, and round the entrance-door stood a compact throng of members for whom no seats were available. With every sentence, almost, the speaker addressing the House struck from it assent or protest; cheers and countercheers ran through its ranks; while below the gangway a few passionate figures on either side, the freebooters of the two great parties, watched one another angrily, sitting on the very edge of their seats, like arrows drawn to the string. Within that privileged section of the Ladies' Gallery to which only the Speaker's order admits, there was no less agitation than on the floor below, though the signs of it were less evident. Some half a dozen chairs placed close against the grille were filled by dusky forms invisible, save as a dim patchwork, to the House beneath them—women with their faces pressed against the lattice-work which divided them from the Chamber, endeavoring to hear and see, in spite of all the difficulties placed in their way by a graceless Commons. Behind them stood other women, bending forward sometimes over the heads of those in front, in the feverish effort to catch the words of the speech. It was so dark in the little room that no inmate of it could be sure of the identity of any other unless she was close beside her; and it was pervaded by a constant soft frou-frou of silk and satin, as persons from an inner room moved in and out, or some lady silently gave up her seat to a new-comer, or one of those in front bent over to whisper to a friend behind. The background of all seemed filled with a shadowy medley of plumed hats, from which sometimes a face emerged as a shaft of faint light from the illumined ceiling of the House struck upon it. The atmosphere was very hot, and heavy with the scent of violets, which seemed to come from a large bunch worn by a slim standing girl. In front of the girl sat a lady who was evidently absorbed in the scene below. She rarely moved, except occasionally to put up an eyeglass the better to enable her to identify some face on the Parliamentary benches, or the author of some interruption to the speaker. Meanwhile the girl held her hands upon the back of the lady's chair, and once or twice stooped to speak to her. Next to this pair, but in a corner of the gallery, and occupying what seemed to be a privileged and habitual seat, was a woman of uncouth figure and strange headgear. Since the Opposition leader had risen, her attention had wholly wandered. She yawned perpetually, and talked a great deal to a lady behind her. Once or twice her neighbor threw her an angry glance. But it was too dark for her to see it; though if she had seen it she would have paid no attention. "Lady Coryston!" said a subdued voice. The lady sitting in front of the girl turned and saw an attendant beckoning. The girl moved toward him, and returned. "What is it, Marcia?" "A note from Arthur, mamma." A slip of paper was handed to Lady Coryston, who read it in the gloom with difficulty. Then she whispered to her daughter: "He hopes to get his chance about seven; if not then, after dinner." "I really don't think I can stay so long," said the girl, plaintively. "It's dreadfully tiring." "Go when you like," said her mother, indifferently. "Send the car back for me." She resumed her intent listening just as a smart sally from the speaker below sent a tumultuous wave of cheers and counter-cheers through his audience. "He can be such a buffoon, can't he?" said the stout lady in the corner to her companion, as she yawned again. She had scarcely tried to lower her voice. Her remark was, at any rate, quite audible to her next-door neighbor, who again threw her a swift, stabbing look, of no more avail, however, than its predecessors. "Who is that lady in the corner—do you mind telling me?" The query was timidly whispered in the ear of Marcia Coryston by a veiled lady, who on the departure of some other persons had come to