The Mask of the Red Death - Graham's Magazine, May 1842 — reading text

GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. Vou. XX. PHILADELPHIA: MAY, 1842. No. 5. THE BRIDE. Ros. Ah, sir, a body would think she was well counterfeited. ‘THE earl is out, sir—and so is Lord William ;” on the greensward without, and a musical female said the obsequious lacquey, as I was ushered into voice singing a gay ditty. Starting up I beheld an Fairlie Hall, ‘* will you amuse yourself in the library apparition standing in the door of the summer house, until dinner, or take a stroll in the park? You will whose exceeding loveliness Iwas doubtful, for a mo- probably meet with some of the family about the ment, whether to refer to earth or heaven. grounds.” This apparition bore the form of a young lady Such was the salutation that greeted me on alight- apparently about eighteen, of a tall shapely figure, ing at the princely mansion of the earl of Fairlie, attired in a lightsummer dress—the sleeves of which, whither I had come at the invitation of his only son being looped up at the shoulders, revealed a pair of —one of my inseparable friends at Oxford. The visit exquisitely rounded arms which might have vied had been promised for more than two years; and I with those of the fabled Euphrosyne. Her dress was actuated to it, not only by the desire of spending came low down towards the bust, displaying the full the vacation with my friend, but by a lurking wish charms of her unrivalled shoulders and all the grace- to behold the Lady Katharine, his only sister, whose ful swelling of her snowy and swan-like neck. Her beauty I had heard extolled by a hundred lips. So I face was of the true oval shape, and on either side had given upa contemplated run to the continent and of it flowed down her luxuriant auburn ringlets. come down to Fairlie Hall. *The features, without being regular, formed a com- After changing my dress and gazing from the win- bination of surpassing beauty. The delicately arched dows of my chamber, I began to feel ennuied and eye-brows; the finely chiselled nose; the small descending the ample staircase I determined on a round chin ; the rich lips whose luxuriance rivalled stroll into the magnificent park, which surrounded that of the full blown rose; and the smooth pearly the hall for some miles on every hand. My walk cheek, through which the vermeil blood might be led me by a wild woodland path into one of the most seen wandering in ten thousand tiny veins—so trans- romantic recesses of the forest. Naturally of a parent was the hue of the skin—united to form a dreamy cast of mind, I walked on ina sort of reverie, countenance which would have been beautiful, even until I was suddenly recalled to my more sober without the constantly changing expression which senses by coming in front of a little summer house, gave animation to each feature. The appearance of perched airily on a rock, and overlooking a mimic this wondrously lovely being, just as I awoke from waterfall. Feeling somewhat fatigued with my day’s the half dreamy sleep I have described, in which the travel, I walked in and sat down. There was little visions of the poet and the sound of the waterfall had furniture in the room, but on a table in the centre, contributed to fill my mind with fantastic images, lay a copy of Spencer, as if some one had lately been made me doubt, for a moment, whether the heavenly there. Picking up my favorite poet I began reading, Una herself or one of her attendant nymphs had but whether the interminable allegory exercised a not emerged on my dreaming vision. But the chang- drowsy influence over me, or whether it was the ing expressing of her features soon convinced me sharp morning air in which I had been riding that that she was no airy visitant. At first a look of sur- affected me, I cannot say, but in a few minutes I fell prise darted over her fine countenance, and she re- into a light doze, such a one as while it gives a treated a step backwards, while the blood mantled dreamy character to our thoughts, or lulls them her cheek, brow, and bosom, and even tinged the altogether into repose, never assumes wholly the ends of her delicate fingers. In aninstant, however, character of sleep, and is dissipated by the slightest she regained her composure. No so myself. I had noise. Mine was soon broken, by a quick light step been equally startled, but was longer in recover- 22 254 GRAHAM’S MAGAZINE. ng my ease. A silence of a minute thus occurred, She looked at me a minute dubiously, as if puzzled during which we stood awkwardly regarding each what to make of my character, as she said: other, but at length the ludicrousness of the scene *T pardon you, for this once, and allow you to ac- striking the fancy of the fair apparition, she burst company me. We shall,” she continued, looking at into a merry laugh, in which, despite my wounded her watch, “have scarcely time to reach the hall vanity, I was forced to follow her. She had now before the dinner bell will sound.’’ And with the fully recovered from her momentary embarrassment words, off she tripped, with a bound as free as that and advancing said, of her agile greyhound. I followed, determined not ‘Mr. Stanhope I presume, for we have been ex- to be outdone, but to maintain the gay rattling tone I pecting you for some days.’’ I bowed. ‘I see I had assumed, as the only one fitted to cope with this must introduce myself. The Lady Katharine, wilful creature. I had so far succeeded that when daughter of the Earl of Fairlie.” we parted at the hall to dress for dinner, I really be- This then was the Lady Katharine of whom I had lieve she would have been puzzled to say what part heard so much! There was somthing in the gaiety of my conversation had been serious or what not. and originality of the address that pleased me, while She must have been completely in the dark as to my at the same time it increased my embarrassment. I real sentiments on any one of the many subjects we bowed again and was about to reply, but in bowing had discussed. Indeed she admitted as much to me I inadvertantly made a step backwards, and trod on at dinner, where I managed to secure a place beside a pet greyhound, which accompanied this wilful crea- her. ture. The animal with a cry sought shelter by its ‘You are a perfect puzzle—do you know it, Mr. mistress’ side, who, by this time, had sunk intg one Stanhope? At least I have not yet decided what to of the seats. think of you. At first] set you down for the most ‘Poor Lama,” she said petting him, ‘‘ you must bashful young man I had ever seen, and now you be careful how you get in the way of a bashful gal- seem as if nothing could intimidate you. Why, lant again,’ and then, turning to me, she said in a when pa was introduced to you, you talked politics tone of gay railery. ‘“‘Ah, Mr. Stanhope, you Oxford with him as if you had known him for years, and gentlemen, knowing as you are in history, Greek, three minutes after you were discussing the fashions te |Oe oe >a and Latin, are all alike awkward at a bow—at least with little Miss Mowbray, as if you had been a man- William is so, and his particular friend of whom I milliner all your life. I scarcely know whether to have heard so much, and of whom I really hoped think you a cameleon, or attribute your wit to the otherwise, is no better.” champaigne.” There was much in this galling to my vanity, but ‘Neither, Lady Katharine, while a better reason it carried with it some alleviation. I had then been may be found nearer home.” the subject of conversation with this fair being, and ‘‘Ah! that wasn’t so badly said, although a little ee a ae e she had thought favorably of me. This idea did too plain. We ladies like flattery well enough, but much to restore me to the use of my tongue, which then it must be disguised.” ~~ otherwise would have been gone forever, under the ** And it would be almost impossible to flatter you! merciless raillery of the Lady Katharine. Besides I, —is that it ?”’ saw that I was losing ground with my fair com- **You puzzle me to tell, I declare, whether that is & «= = panion, and that it was necessary to call some as- a compliment or otherwise—but see, pa is waiting surrance to my aid. I rallied therefore and re- to drink champaigne with you.” plied: In such gay conversation passed the dinner and ‘¢‘Let me not be condemned without trial. Lady evening; and when I retired for the night it was Katharine may yet soften her sentence—or at least with the consciousness that I was in a fair way to fall in the court of fashion over which she is queen, I in love with the Lady Katharine. I lay awake for may have a chance of improvement.” some two hours, thinking of all I had said and of her There was atone of easy badinage in this, so dif- replies; and I came to the conclusion that she was, ferent from what she had been led to expect from my beyond measure not only the loveliest but the most former embarrassment, that the lady looked up in fascinating of her sex. unaffected surprise. I had been among the first of the numerous guests *‘ Very well, I declare—you improve on acquaint- to arrive; but the remainder followed so close atter ance. Why you have almost earned for yourself me that in a few days the whole company had as- the favor of being my knight homewards—quite in- sembled. It was an unusually gay party. The morn- deed, only that you have lamed my poor Lama. So ing was generally spent by the gentlemen in shooting I must even leave you to Spencer, which I see you among the preserves, leaving the ladies to their in- have been reading, and depart. We will meet at door recreations or a ride around the park. On dinner and I will see by that time if you have im- these rides the gentlemen sometimes accompanied proved in