Lewis Arundel; Or, The Railroad Of Life

by Frank E. Smedley

“And such a smile!”

“Then his moustaches and whiskers are irreproachable.”

“And his hands whiter than mine.”

“In fact, he is a stunner!” declared the baritone.

“Though I detest slang, I must confess that he is,” chimed in the soprano.

“If I were a woman I should be over head and ears in love with him,” suggested Charley.

“I am both the one and the other,” responded his wife, casting an arch glance at her spouse, as much as to say, “How do you like that?” which rebellious speech her lord and master punished by stopping her mouth with—the only remedy we believe ever to have been found effectual in such a case.

From that time forth Lewis became a constant visitor at the Palazzo Grassini, and at last completed his triumph over Laura’s affections by asking, as a favour, to be allowed to take a sketch of “Tarley”; “he wanted a study of a child’s head so much.” Then the sketch was pronounced so successful that nothing would serve but that it must be perpetuated in oils, and as the possibility of making “Tarley” sit still long enough for such a purpose did not exist unless Laura sat also, Lewis consented to paint them together, although he had hitherto steadily refused to take a portrait, in spite of large sums which had been offered him to do so.

Laura received a second epistle from Annie Grant postponing their visit for another fortnight. Her father had all along expected Miss Livingstone would accompany them as a matter of course; but when it came to the point that redoubtable spinster broke into open revolt, asserted her independence, nailed her colours to the mast, and determined upon death or victory. So resolute was she, that after a most obstinate engagement with sharp tongues, which followed upon two days of sulky silence, the General was forced to make terms and yield his own will to that of a woman; so Minerva remained behind to garrison Broadhurst. As, however, the General by no means approved of his daughter travelling without some female companion, the journey was very nearly being given up, when, at the last moment, a lady, the wife of an Austrian officer quartered at Venice, was discovered, who, seeking for an escort to enable her to join her husband, was only too happy to be allowed to accompany the Grant party. These delays, however, would necessarily retard their arrival for at least a fortnight. Days passed away; the picture (and a very pretty one it was) of the fair young mother and her little, rosy, merry child, advanced towards completion, and Lewis began to look forward with a feeling almost akin to regret, to the time when the sittings, and the agreeable, friendly conversations to which they gave rise, would be at an end.

Since he had quitted England his thoughts and feelings had undergone various and considerable changes; at first he had striven, in the excitement of active adventure, to banish recollection, and after a time he succeeded so far as to take a lively interest in all he saw. The revolutionary spirit, which has since produced such changes in modern Europe, was then beginning to show itself, and he witnessed the outbreak of a rather serious émeute in one of the German States, in which he contrived to get mixed up, and by these means he came in for a couple of day’s hard fighting, and a week of intense fatigue and excitement. This, paradoxical as it may appear, was of the greatest psychological assistance to him; it roused him effectually, and took him completely out of himself. The excitement was kept up for some little time longer, for, owing to the part which his old student associations had led him to take in the affair, he brought upon himself the suspicions of the Prussian government, and the next event of his tour was in fact a flight to save himself from arrest. During this period he was accompanied by a young German, who, much more deeply implicated in the affair than Lewis had been, dreaded that his capture might lead to his execution; and unwilling to atone for his patriotism with his life, he and his companion hurried from the scene of their exploits, experiencing innumerable dangers, difficulties, and hairbreadth escapes, ere they arrived at that sanctuary for political refugees, the city of the Sultan. Having by these means regained his energy and vigour of mind, Lewis applied himself heart and soul to the study of his new profession, and in the interest of the pursuit kept his powers, mental and bodily, so fully employed as to hold memory at bay, and to require neither society nor sympathy. But now a change had again come o’er him; he had in great measure mastered the difficulties of his art, he had solved the problem whether by his talent he could secure a competency for himself and those belonging to him; constant and indefatigable labour was no longer an obligation, and ere the Leicesters discovered him he had begun to feel, though he would scarcely acknowledge it even to himself, the want of those social ties from which, in his first frenzy of grief, he had voluntarily separated himself. In the society of the Leicesters he obtained exactly the amount of relaxation which he required—Laura appreciated and understood him, Charles, without understanding, liked him; while on his part, the lady’s society interested and soothed him, and that of her husband afforded him amusement and companionship.