Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 250: what you’re looking at

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

242 »o i—even though she should discard me, I will yet | love and worship her; because I shall have the | conviction that for some unknown reason she must | be right me !” The unhappy young man pressed his hand wildly to his brow; and a deep convulsing sob smote upon the ear of Lord Ormsby. “ Tf,” cried Charles, “ my fault has been that I have loved her too devotedly and too well—if it be a subject of reproach that in the fervour of my enthusiastic passion I have placed her image upon a pedestal and made it the object of my idolatrous worship, so that God himself is angered against although, my God! it will be death to | discuss all this presently. AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE, culated Mrs. De Vere. “I was so uneasy that 1 could not keep away any longer !” “Well, dear mother,” said Charles, “we will You see that I have a gentleman with me.” Mrs. De Vere abruptly withdrew her arms from about her son’s neck; and she turned towards the visitor, whose presence she had not before noticed. Then a sudden and peculiar expression flitted over her countenance—an ejaculation at the same time burst from the nobleman’s lips—it was echoed by one from those of the lady, for the recognition was now mutual and complete ! “ Good God ! is it possible P’ was now the wild me—if on account of my readiness to lay down my | exclamation that thrilled from Mrs. De Vere’s life for Agnes’ sake, so that not a single hair of | her head should be injured—if for all these reasons I am to be discarded and cast off, thon heaven knows that they are potent enough !” Lord Ormsby was staggered ; and for a mo- ment he felt an illimitable compassion stealing in upon his soul on behalf of this young man whose looks were calculated to inspire so deep an interest, and whose language was fraught with so much apparent sincerity. But then—like a blight upon the choicest flowers of the garden—like a frost upon the tender blossoms of the trees—came the withering recollection of all the statements he had heard from the lips alike of Mrs. Hardress and Catrina Petroro. It was therefore with a mourn- ful shake of the head that Lord Ormsby said, “ Nothing can change the resolve which is taken, Everything is at an end between Agnes and your- self!” Ho was turning towards the door, when Charles exclaimed, ‘One word more, sir! one word more! only one word !” Ormaby stopped; and just at that moment the door opened. A waiter entered; and said, ad- dressing himself to De Vere, “If you please, signor, to pardon this intrusion: but your mother fe “My mother?” ejaculated our hero. of my mother?” She is here, signor. The lady has just arrived —TI told her that you had some one with you—she would not therefore immediately come . “‘ My mother here!” cried Charles. me hasten to her! But Ah!” he ejaculated, catching sight of Ormsby, whose presence for the moment he had forgotten: “will you answer me one question, sir?” and now he spoke in English again, so that the waiter should not understand him. “Tell me who you are, that you have thus had the power of wielding so. terrible an in- fluence over my happiness—aye, over my entire destiny !” The waiter, judging by the vehemence with which Charles spoke, that it would be discreet for him to withdraw, opened the door to retire. Mrs. De Vere was already in the ante-room; and the * What Ob, let. tongue. “Can the dead become alive, and aro the lost thus to be found P_ Yes, yes! it is no de- lusion ! Yow are Morton Evelyn !” * And you,” cried Lord Ormsby, “ are Lucy Maitland !” CHAPTER XLI. ORMSBY AND MRS. DE VERE. WHat a stupendous revelation was this for 'Charles De Vere!—we mean the revelation of the fact that the individual whom he beheld’ before him was Morton Evelyn ; for he knew that this was the name of the father of his beloved Agnes,—that father who had so long been looked upon as dead! Yes—her father! And, Oh! Charles was now no longer at a loss to compre: hend the right by which this personage pro- claimed everything to be at an end betwixt him and Agnes!—but though the source of the power and authority thus to act was no longer a mys- tery to our hero, he was still as much in the dark as ever to conjecture the grounds upon which that decision so fatal to his happiness had been arrived at. As for Lord Ormsby himself, he had for the mo- ment forgotten the presence of Charies in the sudden surprise which smote him on recognising Mrs. De Vere; and guarded and cautious though he habitually was, yet in the excitement of the in- stant be would have ejaculated that name of Lucy Maitland all the same, even thoug! death or dis- honour might have been the result to the lady her- self! “ ‘Yes—I am Morton Evelyn,” he said; “ andit may indeed appear unto you as if the lost were being found—as if the grave were giving up its dead—and as if the perished and the deceased were being resuscitated! And perhaps never, never should I have proclaimed myself to the world, or returned again amidst the busy haunts of men, were it not that circumstances have marvellously altered with me, and I am in reality that which instant the door opened she rushed into the inner | twenty years ago I only for a brief space fencied apartment. “Charles! my dearest boy Charles!” she cried, flinging her arms about his neck and straining him to her bosom; “ how uneasy have you made me! This prolonged absence " “Mother !—dear mother!” he exclaimed; “I wrote to tell you the cause 4 “Then your letters must have miscarried !” eja- myself to be !” A sudden light appeared to flash in unto the brain of Charles De Vere; and he ejaculated, “ Oh, now I understand it all! You are ennobled and you are rich—you are Lord Ormeby in truth and reality—and it is for this reason that your lordship has forbidden me to aspire to the hand of your daughter !” Comichboo nn} S (E@) 3