Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 399: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ene ee —— gg em a i i AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASULRK, I have sent memorials and petitions to the French Government: but the tyrant who under the name of President sways the destinies of France, has doubtless commanded the underlings who call themselves his Ministers to treat all my explana- tions and representations with a cold contemptu- ous silence. All my pecuniary affairs have fallen into confusion; and not only am I rendered an exile, but likewise a bankrupt. Ah, mine indeed is a sad fate, dear Corinna !” “-Yes—the fate of all political exiles is doubt- less most sad,” replied the young girl; “for | heaven knows that my father and his family have had bitter experiences of the truth of what I have just said! But tell me of yourself, Edgar? What are you now doing?’ “T am teaching languages for my bread, Co- rinna,” replied the young Frenchman. ‘“ Yes—I who was wont to mingle in the very best society —who found myself courted in all the most bril- liant cireles—who had only to make my appear- ance in apy capital in Europe, in order to find next day the cards of the highest aristocracy upon my table—I, the eourted and the caressed, am now reduced to the position of a miserable pre- ceptor teaching French for a few shillings a lesson in a foreign country! But this is not all: there ie still a greater humiliation to which I have been eompelled to submit. The few pupils whom I possess, are scions of the British aristocracy: but the British aristocracy are so grossly saturated with prejudices, that they conceive a beard and moustache must necessarily be indicative of a Red Republican and Socialist; and still in that same besotted spirit, they look upon all Red Repub- licans and Socialists as so many monsters whom it would be a blessing to exterminate by means of magic or gunpowder. Well then, to bs brief, Corinna, in order that I may be enabled to earn my bread as a preceptor of languages, I have been compelled to render my upper lip and my @hin as smooth as you now behold them. These things I should account as the veriest trifles— utterly unworthy of mention,—were it not part and parcel of the humiliations which I have en- dured !” “You must live in hope, Edgar,” replied Co- rinna, “that a brighter dey will dawn upon ou.” : “T must believe that the dawning of such a day has already commenced, my beloved,” re- sponded Marcellin, “inasmuch as I am again blessed by bebolding your countenance and listen- ing to the sounds of your voice! And Oh, Co- rinna! if ever a brighter day should indeed dawn for me—if restored to my own country I should recover my fortune, and again enjoy the position from which I have been so cruelly hurled down,— Ob, believe me that I should only be too happy to throw myself at your feet, to offer you my hand as you already possess my heart, and to beseech that you will accompany me to the altar!” These were delicious words for the ears of the young girl to drink in; for the language of love is as sweet to the soul as the choicest nectar is to the tongue;—and while Corinna’s cheeks were suffused with modest blushes, the light of joy was swimming in her eyes, and her gentle bosom was heaving and sinking with the palpitations of her heart. “Where is now your father?” inquired Mar- cellin, after a brief pause. “ He is not in Eogland,” answered Corinna: “he has gone to Italy.” “To Italy?” ejaculated Edgar. ‘But he is not insensate enough to plunge teadlong again into political intrigues, at a period when reaction is everywhere taking place — when things are universally tending towards despotism on the Cone tinent—and therefore when the failure of insur- rectionary attempts is inevitable ?” “ No—my father does not entertain any ideas of fresh plot and intrigue,” responded Corinna: “neither has he gone to Naples. His object in visiting another of the Italian States, is to seek after his son—my elder brother—of whom I think that I must have spoken to you : “‘ Yes—L believe so, Corinna,” interjected Mar- cellin. ‘ But whatsoever your father’s motive for revisiting Italy may be, 1 hope that he will ac- complish his aim sately and successfully. And in the meanwhile, Corinna, during your father’s ab- sence you are residing with this young Huglish lady who has become so great a friend and bene- factress ?” *Yes—Miss Evelyn, who is as amiable as she is beautiful,” replied Corinna. “Ab! now I be- think me, she will be coming hither directly indeed I wonder that she has not already de- scended from her own chamber! I will introduce you to her—I will tell her everything that has taken place between us—for I must keep back no secrets from her knowledge—Ob, no! not for worlds would 1!” ‘“ Would it not be better, my dear Corinna,” asked Edvar Marcellin, “if I were to retire fora few minutes, while you explained yourself to Miss Evelyn? Indeed, the propriety of such a course is apparent enough. You must first ascertain whether it be agreeable for her to receive me :— you can tell her that I am a gentleman by birth, Corinna—but that in circumstances I am reduced You may tell her likewise that [ am not so reckless of your happiness as to hint at the pro- bability of our being united for the present, until circumstances shall place me in a more fayour- able position.” ** Rest assured, Edgar,” responded Corinna, with a bewitchingly sweet smile, “ I shall speak of you to Miss Evelyn as you deserve—and that is not in a way which will tend to your disparagement. And now go and walk in the garden while I seek the amiable Agnes ys “But one word, Corinna !” interrupted Edgar. “* Have you ever told your father of the meetings that used to take place P—did you ever suffer him to learn that I bad introduced myself to his daughter, and that by my looks I had given her to understand that I loved her ?” ‘‘ No—I never mentioned all this to my father,” replied Corinna, with a blush rising upon her cheeks; “and I feel that I ought to have done so!” “ But what explanation will you give to Miss Evelyn,” inquired Edgar Marcellin, “if she ques- tion you on this point? Ab, by the bye, at once let me ask when do you expect your father’s ree turn home P” “T have not the slightest idea,” responded Co- rinna. ‘“ He has been gone nearly a month—and I Comiclooolks ——$__—_ —- Gc J Oim