27 Tenant Of Wildfell Hall- By Stephanie Poppins

Contrary to the early 19th-century norms, she pursues an artist's career and makes an income by selling her pictures. Her strict seclusion soon gives rise to gossip in the neighboring village and she becomes a social outcast. Refusing to believe anything scandalous about her, Gilbert befriends her and discovers her past.

In this episode: Annabella comes between Helen and Arthur.

Transcript

Hello. Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph, A romantic bedtime podcast guaranteed to help you drift off into a calm, Relaxing sleep. Come with me as we travel back to a time long ago, Where Helen Huntington is sacrificing everything she knows in order to protect her son. But before we begin, Let us take a moment to focus on where we are now. Take a deep breath in through your nose. Then let it out on a long sigh. That's it. It is time to relax and really let go. Feel your shoulders melt away from your ears as you sink into the support beneath you. Feel the pressure seep away from your cheeks as your breath drops into a natural rhythm. There is nothing you need to be doing right now and nowhere you need to go. We are together, And it is time for sleep. The Tenant of Wildfelm Hall by Anne Bronte Read and abridged by Stephanie Poppins Chapter 27 A Missed Demeanor October 9th While the gentleman arranging the woods and Lady Lobra is busy writing her letters, I will return to my chronicle for the purpose of recording sayings and doings, The last of the kind I hope I shall ever have the pleasure of writing. The last of the kind I hope I shall ever have cause to describe. It was on the night of the 4th, A little after tea, That Annabella had been singing and playing, With Arthur as usual at her side. She had ended her song, But she still sat at the instrument, And he stood leaning on the back of the chair, Conversing in scarcely audible tones with his face in very close proximity to hers. I looked at Lord Lobra. He was at the other end of the room, Talking with Mrs Hargraves and Grimsby. But I saw him dance towards his lady and his host, A quick, Impatient glance, Expressive of intense disquietude, At which Grimsby smiled. Determined to interrupt the tete-a-tete, I rose, And selecting a piece of music from the music stand, Stepped up to the piano, Intending to ask the lady to play it. But I stood transfixed and speechless on seeing her seated there, Listening with what seemed an exultant smile on her flushed face, To his soft murmurings, With her hand quietly surrendered to his clasp. The blood rushed first to my heart, And then to my head, For there was more than this. Almost at the moment of my approach, He cast a hurried glance over his shoulder towards the other occupants of the room, Then ardently pressed the unresisting hand to his lips. On raising his eyes, He beheld me and dropped them again, Confounded and dismayed. She saw me too, And confronted me with a look of hard defiance. I laid the music on the piano and retired. I felt ill, But I did not leave the room. And it could not be long before the company dispersed. I went to the fire and leant my head against the chimney-piece. In a minute or two, Someone asked me if I felt unwell. I did not answer. Indeed, At the time, I knew not what was said. But I mechanically looked up and saw Mr. Hargrave standing beside me on the rug. Shall I get you a glass of wine? Said he. No, Thank you, I replied, And turning from him, I looked round. Lady Lobra was beside her husband, Bending over him as he sat with her hand on his shoulder, Softly talking and smiling in his face. And Arthur was at the table, Turning over a book of engravings. I seated myself in the nearest chair, And Mr. Hargrave, Finding his services were not desired, Judiciously withdrew. Shortly after, The company broke up, And as the guests were retiring to their rooms, Arthur approached me, Smiling with the utmost assurance. Are you very angry, Helen? Murmured he. This is no jest, Arthur, Said I, Seriously, But as calmly as I could, Unless you think it a jest to lose my affection forever. What, So bitter, He exclaimed, Laughingly clasping my hand between both his, That I snatched it away in indignation, Almost in disgust, For he was obviously affected with wine. Then I must go down on my knees, Said he, And kneeling before me with clasped hands, Uplifted in mock humiliation, He continued imploringly, Forgive me, Helen, Dear Helen, Forgive me, And I'll never do it again. Bearing his face in his handkerchief, He effected to sob aloud. Leaving him thus employed, I took my candle, And slipping away from the room, Hastened upstairs as fast as I could. But he soon discovered I'd left him, And rushing up after me, Caught me in his arms just as I entered the chamber, And was about to shut the door in his face. No, No, By heaven, You shan't escape me so, He cried. Alarmed at my agitation, He begged me not to put myself in such a passion, Telling me I was white in the face, And should kill myself if I did so. Let me go, Then, I murmured, And immediately he released me, And it was as well he did, For I was really in a passion. I sunk into the easy chair, And endeavoured to compose myself, For I wanted to speak to him calmly. He stood beside me, But did not venture to touch me, Or to speak for a few seconds. Then, Approaching a little nearer, He dropped on one knee, Not in mock humility, But to bring himself nearer my level, And leaning his hand on the arm of the chair, He began, In a low voice, It is all nonsense, Heaven, A jest, I mean nothing, Not worth a thought, For you never learn. Then he continued more boldly, That you have never learned, He continued more boldly, That you have nothing to fear from me. I love you wholly and entirely. If I ever give thought to another, You may well spare it, For those fancies are here and gone like a flash of lightning, While my love for you burns on steadily, And forever like the sun. You little exorbitant tyrant, Will not that? Be quiet a moment, Will you, Arthur, Said I, And listen to me, And don't think I'm in a jealous fury, I am perfectly calm. Feel my hand. I gravely extended it towards him, But closed it upon his with an energy that seemed to disprove the assertion, And made him smile. You needn't smile, Sir, Said I, Tightening my grasp, And looking steadfastly on him till he almost quailed before me. You may think it all very fine, Mr Huntington, To amuse yourself with rousing my jealousy, But take care you don't rouse my hate instead, And when you have extinguished my love, You will find it no easy matter to kindle it again. Well, Helen, I won't repeat the offence, But I meant nothing by it, I assure you. I'd taken too much wine, And I was scarcely myself. You often take too much, And that is another practice I detest. He looked up, Astonished at my warmth. Yes, I continued. I never mentioned it before, Because I was ashamed to do so, But now I'll tell you it distresses me, And it may disgust me if you go on. And the whole system of your conduct to Lady Lobra is not referable to wine, And this night you knew perfectly well what you were doing. Well, I'm sorry for it, Replied he, With more of a sulkiness than contrition. What more would you have? You are sorry I saw you, No doubt, I answered coldly. If you had not seen me, He murmured, Fixing his eyes on the carpet, It would have done no harm. My heart felt ready to burst, But I resolutely swallowed back my emotion and answered calmly. You think not? No, Replied he, Boldly, After all, What have I done? It's nothing, Except as you choose to make it a subject of accusation and stress. What would Lord Lobra, Your friend, Think if he knew all, Said I, Or what would you yourself think if he or any other had acted the same part to me? I would blow his brains out. Well then, Arthur, How can you call it nothing, An offence for which you would think yourself justified in blowing another man's brains out? Is it nothing to trifle with your friend's feelings and mine? To endeavour to steal a woman's affections from her husband, What he values more than his gold, And therefore what is more dishonest to take? Are the marriage vows a jest to you? Is it nothing to make it your sport to break them and to tempt another man to do the same? Can I love a man that does such things and coolly maintains it is nothing? You are breaking your marriage vows yourself, Said he, Indignantly rising and pacing to and fro. You promised to honour and obey me, And now you attempt to hector over me and threaten and accuse me and call me worse than a highwayman. If it were not for your situation, Helen, I would not submit to it so tamely. I won't be dictated to by a woman, Though she be my wife. What will you do then? Will you go on until I hate you and then accuse me of breaking my vows? He was silent a moment and then replied, You never will hate me. Returning and resuming his former position at my feet, He repeated more vehemently, You cannot hate me as long as I love you. But how can I believe you love me if you continue to act in this way? Just imagine yourself in my place. Would you think I loved you if I did so? Would you believe my protestations and honour and trust me under such circumstances? The cases are different, He replied. It is a woman's nature to be constant, To love one and one only, Blindly, Tenderly and forever. Bless them, Dear creatures, And you above them all, But you must have some commiseration for us, Helen. You must give us a little more licence for as Shakespeare has it, However we do praise ourselves, Our fancy are more giddy and unfirm, More longing, Wavering, Sooner lost and won than women's are. Do you mean by that your fancies are lost to me and won by Lady Lobra? No, Heaven is my witness, I think her mere dust and ashes in comparison with you and shall continue to think so unless you drive me from you by too much severity. She is a daughter of earth, You are an angel of heaven. Only be not too austere in your divinity and remember I am a poor, Fallible mortal. Then he took my hand and looking up with an innocent smile said, Come now, Helen, Won't you forgive me? If I do, You will repeat the offence. I swear by it. Don't swear, I'll believe your word as well as your oath. I wish I could have confidence in either. Try me then, Helen, Only trust and pardon me this once and you shall see. Come, I'm in hell's torments till you speak the word. I did not speak it, But I put my hand on his shoulder and kissed his forehead, And then burst into tears. He embraced me tenderly and we have been good friends ever since. He has been decently temperate at table and well-conducted towards Lady Lobra. The first day he held himself aloof from her as far as he could without any flake and breach of hospitality and since that he's been friendly and civil but nothing more. She seems haughty and cold she seems haughty and displeased and Lord Lobra is manifestly more cheerful and more cordial towards his host than before. But I shall be glad when they're gone for I have so little love for Annabella. It really is quite a task to be civil to her.

Reviews

Eww, just ewww, he’s a beast. Declaring many men’s minds even today, so she is on point… thank you, dear! 🙏🏼❤️