Monica: A Novel (Complete)

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book Monica: A Novel (Complete) by Evelyn Everett-Green, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Evelyn Everett-Green ISBN: 9781465616166
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Evelyn Everett-Green
ISBN: 9781465616166
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English
“Good-bye, Monica. I will look in again to-morrow: but I assure you there is no cause for anxiety. He is not worse than usual, and will be better soon.” The doctor was buttoning up his heavy driving-coat as he spoke, and at the conclusion of the sentence he opened the heavy oak door, letting in a blast of cold air and a sheet of fine, penetrating rain. “Oh, Raymond, what weather! I ought not to have sent for you.” “Nonsense! You know I am weather-proof. Old Jack will find his way home, if I cannot. Good-bye again.” The door closed upon the stalwart figure, and Lady Monica Trevlyn was left standing alone upon the wide staircase, amid the gathering shadows of the great hall. Castle Trevlyn was, in truth, a sufficiently grim and desolate place, both within and without. Tangled park, dense pine woods, and a rocky iron-bound coast surrounded it, cutting it off, at it were, from communication with the outside world. Within its walls lay a succession of vast, stately chambers, few of them now inhabited—regions where carved black oak, faded tapestry, rusty armour, and antique relics of bygone days seemed to reign in a sort of mournful grandeur, telling their own tale of past magnificence and of present poverty and decay. Yes, the Trevlyns were a fallen race; for the past three generations the reigning earl had been poor, and the present Lord Trevlyn had failed to do anything towards restoring the decaying fortunes of his house. He too was very poor, hence the air of neglect that reigned around and within the castle. Monica, however, his only child, was far too well used to the gloom and grimness of the old castle to be in the least oppressed by it. She loved her lonely, desolate home with a curious, passionate intensity, and could not picture anything more perfect than the utter silence and isolation that hemmed in her life. The idea of desiring a change had never so much as occurred to her. Monica was very beautiful, with a beauty of a rare kind, that haunted the memory of those who saw her, as a strain of music sometimes haunts the ear. Her face was always pale and grave, and at first sight cold even to hardness, yet endued with an underlying depth and sweetness that often eluded observation, though it never failed to make itself felt. It was a lovely face—like that of a pictured saint for purity of outline, of a Greek statue for perfection of feature—almost as calm and colourless as marble itself. Yet, behind the statuesque severity lay that strange, sad, wistful sweetness which could not quite be hidden away, and gave to the beholder the idea that some great trouble had overshadowed the girl’s life. Let us go with her, and see what that trouble was.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
“Good-bye, Monica. I will look in again to-morrow: but I assure you there is no cause for anxiety. He is not worse than usual, and will be better soon.” The doctor was buttoning up his heavy driving-coat as he spoke, and at the conclusion of the sentence he opened the heavy oak door, letting in a blast of cold air and a sheet of fine, penetrating rain. “Oh, Raymond, what weather! I ought not to have sent for you.” “Nonsense! You know I am weather-proof. Old Jack will find his way home, if I cannot. Good-bye again.” The door closed upon the stalwart figure, and Lady Monica Trevlyn was left standing alone upon the wide staircase, amid the gathering shadows of the great hall. Castle Trevlyn was, in truth, a sufficiently grim and desolate place, both within and without. Tangled park, dense pine woods, and a rocky iron-bound coast surrounded it, cutting it off, at it were, from communication with the outside world. Within its walls lay a succession of vast, stately chambers, few of them now inhabited—regions where carved black oak, faded tapestry, rusty armour, and antique relics of bygone days seemed to reign in a sort of mournful grandeur, telling their own tale of past magnificence and of present poverty and decay. Yes, the Trevlyns were a fallen race; for the past three generations the reigning earl had been poor, and the present Lord Trevlyn had failed to do anything towards restoring the decaying fortunes of his house. He too was very poor, hence the air of neglect that reigned around and within the castle. Monica, however, his only child, was far too well used to the gloom and grimness of the old castle to be in the least oppressed by it. She loved her lonely, desolate home with a curious, passionate intensity, and could not picture anything more perfect than the utter silence and isolation that hemmed in her life. The idea of desiring a change had never so much as occurred to her. Monica was very beautiful, with a beauty of a rare kind, that haunted the memory of those who saw her, as a strain of music sometimes haunts the ear. Her face was always pale and grave, and at first sight cold even to hardness, yet endued with an underlying depth and sweetness that often eluded observation, though it never failed to make itself felt. It was a lovely face—like that of a pictured saint for purity of outline, of a Greek statue for perfection of feature—almost as calm and colourless as marble itself. Yet, behind the statuesque severity lay that strange, sad, wistful sweetness which could not quite be hidden away, and gave to the beholder the idea that some great trouble had overshadowed the girl’s life. Let us go with her, and see what that trouble was.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Letters Found in the Ruins of Fort Braddock by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Samplers and Tapestry Embroideries by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Chance and Luck by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Fortune's My Foe: A Romance by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book My Adventures with Your Money by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Old Christmas From the Sketch Book of Washington Irving by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Charles Tyrrell: The Bitter Blood (Complete) by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book The Blue Lights a Detective Story by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Washington's Masonic Correspondence As Found Among The Washington Papers in The Library of Congress by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book War Medals and Their History by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Beacon Lights of History (Complete) by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Women Novelists of Queen Victoria's Reign: A Book of Appreciations by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book South Africa and the Transvaal War, Vol. III From the Battle of Colenso, 15th Dec. 1899, to Lord Roberts's Advance into the Free State, 12th Feb. 1900 by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Un Faccioso Más Y Algunos Frailes Menos by Evelyn Everett-Green
Cover of the book Euphorion: Being Studies of the Antique and the Mediaeval in the Renaissance (Complete) by Evelyn Everett-Green
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy