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The Shuttle

The Shuttle

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Chapter 1 THE WEAVING OF THE SHUTTLE

Word Count: 4689    |    Released on: 28/11/2017

eaning of the web it wove, the might of it, and its place in the making of a world's history. Men thought but little of either web or weaving, calling them by

el deepened by hatred and the shedding of brothers' blood. Between the two worlds of East and West there was no will to draw nearer. Each held apart. Those who had rebelled against that which their souls called tyranny, having strugg

e, sailed back haughtily to the world which seemed so far the greater power. Plunging into new battles, they added new conquests and splendour to their land, looking back wit

them firm, each of them all unknowing for many a year, that what had at first been mere threads of gossamer, was formi

to whom the voyage was a mere incident-in many cases a yearly one. "A crossing" in those days was an event. It was planned seriously, long thought of, discussed and re-discussed, with and among the various members of the family to which the voyager belonged. A certain boldness, bordering on reckless

d gained a certain dignity. The ability to touch with an intimate bearing upon such localities was a raison de plus for being asked out to tea or to dinner. To possess photographs and relics was to be of interest, to have seen European celebrities even at a distance, to have wandered about the outside of

added greater strength than any others, twining the cord of sex and home-building and race-founding. But this was a slight and wea

and crises. Their millions could scarcely be regarded as private property. Newspapers bandied them about, so to speak, employing them as factors in argument, using them as figures

o create demand for his own supplies. If he was betrayed into an error, he quickly retrieved it. He could live upon nothing and consequently could travel anywhere in search of such things as he desired. He could barely read and write, and could not spell, but he was daring and astute. His untaught brain was that of a financier, his blood burned with the fever of but one desire-the desire to accumulate. Money expressed to his nature, not expenditure, but investment in such small or large properties as could be resold at profit in the near or far future. The future held fascinations for him. He bought nothing for his own pleasure or comfort, nothing which could not be sold or bartered again. He married a woman who was a trader's daughter and shared his passion for gain. She was of North of England blood, her father having been a hard-fisted small tradesman in an unimportant town, who had been daring enough to emigrate

physical absorption in one idea. Their peculiarity was not so much that they wished to be rich as that Nature itself impelled them to collect wealth as the load-stone draws towards it iron. Having possessed nothing, they became rich, having become rich they became richer, having founded their fortunes on small schemes, they increased them by enormous ones. In time they attained that omnipotence of wealth which it would seem no circumstance can control or limit. The first Reuben Vanderpoel could not spell, the second could, the third was as well educated as a man could be whose sole profession is money-making. His children were taught all that expensive teachers and expensive opportunities could teach them. After the second generation the meagre and mercantile physical type of the Vanderpoels improved upon itself. Feminine good looks appeared and were made the most of. The Vanderpoel element invested even good looks to an advantage. The fourth Reuben Vande

vels of Mrs. Oliphant and other writers. The most ordinary little anecdotes in which vicarages, gamekeepers, and dowagers figured, were exciting in these early days. "Sir Nigel Anstruthers," when engraved upon a visiting card, wore an air of distinction almost startling. Sir Nigel himself was not as picturesque as his name, though he was not entirely without attraction, when for reasons of his own he chose to aim at agreeableness of bearing. He was a man with a good figure and a good voice, and but for a heaviness of feature the result o

ratulation are prompt and civil, but the actual truth is that he cares nothing whatever about you or your relations, and if you don'

as not popular. He was not perhaps exactly disliked, but men whose chief interest at that period lay in stocks and railroads, did not find conversation easy with a man whose sole occupation had been the shooting of birds and the hunting of foxes, when he was not absolutely loitering about London, with his time on his hands. The stories he told-and they were few-were chiefly anecdotes whose points gained their humour by the fact that a man was a comica

state going to the dogs, the farmhouses tumbling to pieces and he, so to speak, without a sixpence to bless himself with, and head over heels in debt. Englishmen of the rank which in bygone times had not associated itself with trade had begun at least to trifle with it-to consider its potentialities as factors possibly to be made useful by the aristocracy. Countesses had not yet spiritedly opened milliners' shops, nor belted Earls adorned the stage, but certain noblemen had dallied with beer and coquetted with stocks. One of the first commercial developments had been the

f the younger branches of their families; that London seasons, hunting, and racing were for their elders and betters, were facts not realised in all their importance by the republican mind. In the course of time they were realised to the full, but in Rosalie Vanderpoel's nineteenth year they covered what was at that time almost unknown territory. One may rest assured Sir Nigel Anstruthers sai

u are going to America in search of, and that it is something more practical than buffaloes. You had better stop in New York. Those big shopkeepers' daughters are enormously rich, they say, and they are immensely pleased by attentions from men of your class. They say they'll marry anything if it has an aunt or a grandmother with a title. You can mention the Marchioness, you know. You need not refer to the fact that she thought your father

hem. In fact, he had put the same thing to himself some time previously, and, in summing up the American matter, had reached certain thrifty decisions. The impulse to knock her down surged within him solel

the most vulgar old beast I have ever beheld. She has the taste of a female costermonger." Which was entirely true

had spent her one season of belledom in being whirled from festivity to festivity, in dancing in rooms festooned with thousands of dollars' worth of flowers, in lunching or dining at tables loaded with roses and violets and orchids, from which ballrooms or feasts she had borne away wonderful "favours" and gifts, whose prices, being recorded in the newspapers, caused a thrill of delight or envy to pass over the land. She was a slim

ble for rather extravagant ink-black lashes and a straight young stare which seemed to accuse if not to condemn. She was being educated at a ruinously expensive school with a number of other inordinate

er relatives went to and the dresses they wore. Some of them were nice little souls, who in the future would emerge from their chrysalis state enchanting women, but they used colloquialisms freely, and had an ingenuous habit o

ate to express herself with force, if with some crudeness. "He's a hateful thing," she

tly emerging only for daily walks with governesses; girls with long hair and boys in little high hats and with faces which seemed curiously made to match them. Both

nsidered annoying. It was quite true that Bettina talked too much and too readily at times, but it had not been explained to her that the opinions of eight years are not always of absorbing interest to the mature. It wa

too much. "If you were my sister and lived at Stornham Court, you would be learning lessons in

Emily," retorted Betty, "

at she was not infrequently rather impudent in a rude litt

f she had been his sister Emily she would have fared ill at the m

may be congratulat

," said Betty, excited a little by the sense

laughing, and her laugh was nervous. "There's Mina

as afraid Betty would do something an English baronet would think vulgar. Her simple brain could not have explained to her why it was that she knew Sir

her extraordinary carriage finely manife

real splendid little thing, but she's got

thing in England," said Sir Nigel.

nstead of planning to entrap into a disadvantageous marriage a girl whose gentleness and fortune could be used by a blackguard of reputable name. The man was cold-blooded enough to see that her gentle weakness was of value because it could be bullied, her money was to be counted on because it could be spent on himself and his degenerate vices and on his racked and ruined name and estate, which must be rebuilt and restocked at an early date by someone or other, lest they tumbled into i

Rosalie, "you are the qu

ot a flow. She swept them away pass

e said. "He'll nearly kill you. I kno

found it impossible to express her intense antipathy and sense of impending calamity. She had not the phrases to make

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1 Chapter 1 THE WEAVING OF THE SHUTTLE2 Chapter 2 A LACK OF PERCEPTION3 Chapter 3 YOUNG LADY ANSTRUTHERS4 Chapter 4 A MISTAKE OF THE POSTBOY'S5 Chapter 5 ON BOTH SIDES OF THE ATLANTIC6 Chapter 6 AN UNFAIR ENDOWMENT7 Chapter 7 ON BOARD THE "MERIDIANA"8 Chapter 8 THE SECOND-CLASS PASSENGER9 Chapter 9 LADY JANE GREY10 Chapter 10 "IS LADY ANSTRUTHERS AT HOME "11 Chapter 11 "I THOUGHT YOU HAD ALL FORGOTTEN."12 Chapter 12 UGHTRED13 Chapter 13 ONE OF THE NEW YORK DRESSES14 Chapter 14 IN THE GARDENS15 Chapter 15 THE FIRST MAN16 Chapter 16 THE PARTICULAR INCIDENT17 Chapter 17 TOWNLINSON & SHEPPARD18 Chapter 18 THE FIFTEENTH EARL OF MOUNT DUNSTAN19 Chapter 19 SPRING IN BOND STREET20 Chapter 20 THINGS OCCUR IN STORNHAM VILLAGE21 Chapter 21 KEDGERS22 Chapter 22 ONE OF MR. VANDERPOEL'S LETTERS23 Chapter 23 INTRODUCING G. SELDEN24 Chapter 24 THE POLITICAL ECONOMY OF STORNHAM25 Chapter 25 "WE BEGAN TO MARRY THEM, MY GOOD FELLOW!"26 Chapter 26 "WHAT IT MUST BE TO YOU-JUST YOU!"27 Chapter 27 LIFE28 Chapter 28 SETTING THEM THINKING29 Chapter 29 THE THREAD OF G. SELDEN30 Chapter 30 A RETURN31 Chapter 31 NO, SHE WOULD NOT32 Chapter 32 A GREAT BALL33 Chapter 33 FOR LADY JANE34 Chapter 34 RED GODWYN35 Chapter 35 THE TIDAL WAVE36 Chapter 36 BY THE ROADSIDE EVERYWHERE37 Chapter 37 CLOSED CORRIDORS38 Chapter 38 AT SHANDY'S39 Chapter 39 ON THE MARSHES40 Chapter 40 "DON'T GO ON WITH THIS"41 Chapter 41 SHE WOULD DO SOMETHING42 Chapter 42 IN THE BALLROOM43 Chapter 43 HIS CHANCE44 Chapter 44 A FOOTSTEP45 Chapter 45 THE PASSING BELL46 Chapter 46 LISTENING47 Chapter 47 "I HAVE NO WORD OR LOOK TO REMEMBER"48 Chapter 48 THE MOMENT49 Chapter 49 AT STORNHAM AND AT BROADMORLANDS50 Chapter 50 THE PRIMEVAL THING