The Loves of Lord Roxboro

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Roxboro Mansion was indeed a beautiful place, beautiful but isolated, away, as you might say, from all the adjoining estates, and dating back hundreds of years, and finally passing down to the present owner, Lord Emory Roxboro, who was, at the opening of our story, seated in his spacious and well-appointed library, perusing a missive which seemed to give him considerable concern.

He was a tall man, well formed, and about forty odd years of age, and to judge from his appearance as he rose to his feet and strode about the softly carpeted room, the letter wrinkled and clutched in his well-manicured hand, he at once presented a striking and dignified appearance. He was clothed in the latest fashion of the day, a massive gold chain dangled from his waistcoat and his gold-rimmed eyeglasses (donned probably for the perusal of the letter that had so agitated him) were perched high on his aristocratic nose, and a huge diamond ring blazed upon the finger of his right hand. He paced the floor nervously and mused as if to himself.

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