Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

82 opinion. He is an old man—he has had a large experience in the world—and of all persons, lawyers may perhaps be considered the most snrewd in judging the secret thoughts and feel- ings of others. Well, then, my dear Agnes, Mr. ‘Timperley came home very much distressed from bis interview with that girl last evening; and he assured my aunt and myself that he has not the jeast doubt as to her guilt.” On hearing these words, Agnes was about to cay that she would abandon her idea of paying a visit to Winifred—when her compassionate feel- ings again got uppermost; and she observed, “I have a great inclination to judge for myself. It is not that I pretend to any skill in phrenology or in reading the human soul through the medium of the physiognomy: but in the present case I have a secret impulse—a species of presentiment—I know not how to express myself—which decides me on paying this visit. Dare I ask you, my dear Cicely, to accompany me ?” “Oh, ask me anything but that!” exclaimed Miss Neale, with a visible shudder. “The bare idea of a police-court is enough to frighten one!” “Pardon me for making the request,” said Aenes: “but if you will not accompany me, I raust go alone.” “TJ should be sorry to think that you ventured thither without the countenance of some friend,” said Miss Neale, deliberating within herself; “and therefore, if you are so positive, and nothing can deter you, my dear Agnes, I will go with you.” Miss Evelyn expressed her gratitude for this assent on Cicely’s part; and at about half-past two o’clock in the afternoon, the two young ladies went forth together. And a couple well calculated to attract interest and attention were Cicely and Agnes. Cicely was the taller of the two, though Miss Evelyn herself was above the medium gtature ; and if Miss Neale furnished a splendid epecimen of a fine-grown, robustly formed young voman—Agnes presented the most perfect model of the sy!ph. Both had light hair: that of Cicely was now drawn partially off the forehead, and etranged in the French fashion, which admirably became her : that of Agnes was in bands, reaching low beneath the ears. Both were well-dressed— yet without what might be called pretension ; and if critical judgment were applied to their toilets, it would have been decided that Miss Evelyn’s was the more tastefully neat and ele- gantly simple. It was shortly after three o’clock when they reached the police-office in a cab which they had taken for the purpose. A crowd was collected in the street: but the young ladies, remaining a little apart from the outskirts of the multitude, ad- dressed themselves to a police-constable ; and he chanced to be the very one whom Agnes had seen in the morning. He told them that the examina- tion was just over, and that the prisoner was to be committed for trial. Agnes was much shocked at this intelligence : but Cicely began questioning the officer in respect to whatsoever had transpired during the investigation. “ You had better walk in, ladies,” said the con- stable: “or else you will soon be surrounded by the crowd.” He at once gave them admittance by means of the magistrate’s private entrance: and Agnes AO Se eS EE gs Oe AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASUBE. slipped a liberal fee into his hand as a reward for his civility. When in the passage with which the private door communicated, Cicely renewed her questions; and the officer rapidly sketched the leading features of the examination,—not forget- ting to mention that part which so specially re- ferred to the delicate hands of the prisoner and the marks on the neck of the deceased. “ Ah, ladies,” he added, “ I have no doubt, from all that I have heard, Mrs. Chicklade was a bad enough woman in her way ad “Come!” said Miss Neale hastily; “let us go and see the unfortunate girl, since that is the ob- ject of our visit.” “She is in the magistrate’s private room, ladies —and a constable is there,” said the officer: “ nor will you be suffered to see her without a witness.” “That is of no consequence,” responded Agnes; “for we have nothing of a private mature to say to her.” The officer now led the way along the passage; and Cicely whispered to Agnes, “ Everything here strikes cold tothe heart! It produces a sensation as if we were never to be liberated again !” “ What then must Winifred feel?” asked Miss Evelyn, with a profound sigh: “and still more, what must she’ feel if she should happen to be innocent P” Cicely had no time to give any response; for a door at which the constable had gently tapped was now opened; and he stood aside for the two young ladies to enter. They passed in accordingly —the door was closed again—an officer, who was in the room, placed his back against it—and they found themselves in the presence of the unfortu- nate Winifred. She was seated at the moment in a mood of the profoundest abstraction—her head bent forward—her eyes looking down, but fixed on vacancy—her hands clasped together, yet in that listless manner which showed that they had thus mechanically joined themselyes—while the arms drooped to their full length. Her bonnet was on the floor—her shawl was flung negligently upon the table: her countenance was very pale—and her lips were compressed. “Here are some ladies come to see you,” said the police-constable in whose charge she was. But Winifred did not hear the announcement : she remained motionless, the effigy of blank de- spair itself. “ Here are some ladies, I say,” cried the oflicer in a louder tone, “ who are come *“ Hush! do not startle her suddenly!” inter- rupted Agnes, who for the few moments that had elapsed since her entrance into the room, had been contemplating Winifred with the most steadfast attention. The young girl had been all that day accustomed to hear rude rough voices speaking around her; and thus she had paid no attention to the words of the constable. But the soft sweet voiee of Agnes Evelyn stole upon her ear: she heard it at once. Thus may it often be with a sleeper in the night- time, who slumbers on unconscious of the dia of the tempest which is roaring and raging with- out: but if the voice of some beloved one breaks, however lowly and gently, upon the silence of the night, it is heard—it sinks through the medium of the ear down into the heart, and touches some chord which in its vibration arouses the sleeper CoOnnicloo emcees cee we re. + ee ee ee eS OO DO OO