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    Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04
    Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04
    Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04

    By Edward Bulwer-Lytton

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    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 27, 2013
    Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04
    Author

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton, engl. Romanschriftsteller und Politiker, ist bekannt geworden durch seine populären historischen/metaphysischen und unvergleichlichen Romane wie „Zanoni“, „Rienzi“, „Die letzten Tage von Pompeji“ und „Das kommende Geschlecht“. Ihm wird die Mitgliedschaft in der sagenumwobenen Gemeinschaft der Rosenkreuzer nachgesagt. 1852 wurde er zum Kolonialminister von Großbritannien ernannt.

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      Book preview

      Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 04 - Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      Project Gutenberg EBook, Alice, or The Mysteries, by Lytton, Book IV #206 in our series by Edward Bulwer Lytton

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      Title: Alice, or The Mysteries, Book IV

      Author: Edward Bulwer Lytton

      Release Date: January 2006 [EBook #9766] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on October 15, 2003]

      Edition: 10

      Language: English

      *** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, ALICE, BY LYTTON, BOOK IV ***

      Produced by Dagny, and by David Widger

      Corrected and updated text and HTML PG Editions of the complete 11 volume set may be found at:

      http://www.gutenberg.org/files/9774/9774.txt

      http://www.gutenberg.org/files/9774/9774-h/9774-h.htm

      BOOK IV.

      A virtuous woman is man's greatest pride.—SIMONIDES.

      CHAPTER I.

        ABROAD uneasy, nor content at home.

          . . . . . .

        And Wisdom shows the ill without the cure.

      HAMMOND: Elegies.

      TWO or three days after the interview between Lord Vargrave and Maltravers, the solitude of Burleigh was relieved by the arrival of Mr. Cleveland. The good old gentleman, when free from attacks of the gout, which were now somewhat more frequent than formerly, was the same cheerful and intelligent person as ever. Amiable, urbane, accomplished, and benevolent, there was just enough worldliness in Cleveland's nature to make his views sensible as far as they went, but to bound their scope. Everything he said was so rational; and yet, to an imaginative person, his conversation was unsatisfactory, and his philosophy somewhat chilling.

      I cannot say how pleased and surprised I am at your care of the fine old place, said he to Maltravers, as, leaning on his cane and his ci-devant pupil's arm, he loitered observantly through the grounds; I see everywhere the presence of the Master.

      And certainly the praise was deserved. The gardens were now in order, the dilapidated fences were repaired, the weeds no longer encumbered the walks. Nature was just assisted and relieved by Art, without being oppressed by too officious a service from her handmaid. In the house itself some suitable and appropriate repairs and decorations—with such articles of furniture as combined modern comfort with the ancient and picturesque shapes of a former fashion—had redeemed the mansion from all appearance of dreariness and neglect; while still was left to its quaint halls and chambers the character which belonged to their architecture and associations. It was surprising how much a little exercise of simple taste had effected.

      I am glad you approve what I have done, said Maltravers. I know not how it was, but the desolation of the place when I returned to it reproached me. We contract friendship with places as with human beings, and fancy they have claims upon us; at least, that is my weakness.

      And an amiable one it is, too,—I share it. As for me, I look upon Temple Grove as a fond husband upon a fair wife. I am always anxious to adorn it, and as proud of its beauty as if it could understand and thank me for my partial admiration. When I leave you I intend going to Paris, for the purpose of attending a sale of the pictures and effects of M. de ——-. These auctions are to me what a jeweller's shop is to a lover; but then, Ernest, I am an old bachelor.

      And I, too, am an Arcadian, said Maltravers, with a smile.

      Ah, but you are not too old for repentance. Burleigh now requires nothing but a mistress.

      Perhaps it may soon receive that addition. I am yet undecided whether I shall sell it.

      Sell it! sell Burleigh!—the last memorial of your mother's ancestry! the classic retreat of the graceful Digbys! Sell Burleigh!

      I had almost resolved to do so when I came hither; then I forswore the intention: now again I sometimes sorrowfully return to the idea.

      And in Heaven's name, why?

      My old restlessness returns. Busy myself as I will here, I find the range of action monotonous and confined. I began too soon to draw around me the large circumference of literature and action; and the small provincial sphere seems to me a sad going back in life. Perhaps I should not feel this, were my home less lonely; but as it is—no, the wanderer's ban is on me, and I again turn towards the lands of excitement and adventure.

      "I understand this, Ernest; but why is your home so solitary? You are still at the age in which wise and congenial unions are

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