Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 354: what you’re looking at

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

| Ne 346 A LI en aa aay AGNES; OB, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. The Countess of Milazzo rose abruptly, as if , took care to ascertain with the least possible delay galvanized, from her seat ; and she made one pace | where Gustavus Barrington was at the time, end forward as if to follow Caarles from the apartment: but suddenly clasping her hands together, she reeled right round and sank senseless in the arms of Signor Palmas, _——- CHAPTER LXI. SrR RODERICK DALHAM. | born to the Baronetcy of Dalham. THs circumstances of our tale now compel us el return to England. Nearly a month had elapsed | since the decision of the memorable lawsuit— | that decision which produced two deaths, killing | the successful plaintiff with joy and the unsuccess- ful defendant with grief! We need not recapitu- late how old Mr. Barrington and Sir John Dalhem died both at the same time—and how by the death of the former without a will, the whole property which had been the subject of so much litigation became the heritage of Gustavus Barripgton. Sir Roderick Dalham possessed the empty title of a Baronet without the slightest means of sup- porting the real dignity of his position. Wini- fred was Lady Dalham ; but her husband was a pauper. Yet they were not without the elements of happiness. Roderick, though double bis wife’s age, doted upon her ; while she, deeply sensible of | all the many kindnesses she had received at the hands of him who had made her his bride, loved | him in return with an affection as deep, as sin- cere, and as abiding as if her heart had never for asingle moment experienced a tender sentiment for her cousin Gustavus. The reader may have fancied at some earlier periods of this narrative, that there was some little degree of selfishness in the desire of Roderick Dalham to make Winifred his wife, and that he might have calculated upon thereby securing the litigated property for himself eventually in case of the lawsuit turning out un- successful in reference to his father. No doubt that Roderick had always reckoned on Winifred’s becoming her grandfather’s heiress in case the old man should have anything to leave: but this cal- Culation was indeed very far from being the prime motive which had induced him to persevere in seeking her as a wife. No!—but he did really love her with a deep affection and earnest attach- ment; and therefore now that she was left por- tionless and poor, without a single shilling of inhe- | ritance from her grandsire, his demeanour changed | not ia the slightest degree towards her—unless it | were to become more affectionate and to demon- | strate a more faithful devotion than ever! Previous to his father’s death, Roderick Dal- ham had not been enabled to live altogether with his wife—though he had passed with her as much of his time as he could possibly bestow without the danger of exciting any suspicion on the part of his sire. But when Sir Join Dalbam died, and Rode- rick on succeeding to the title found himself to be homeless and portionless, he of course proceeded to take up bis residence altogether with Winifred. She occupied a neat little cottage in Kentish Town; aod this humble habitation now became Sir Rode- rick’s home. We should here repeat that which we have beiore stated—namely, that Sir Roderick a to adopt prompt measures to communicate with him in Italy so that he might be informed of the death of his grandsire and of his own right and title to the immense property which had been the subject of the lawsuit. The period had now arrived when Winifred was to become a mother; and it was on the very day when the military tribunal at Sienna condemned the young Count of Camerino to death—namely, on the 4th of December, 1849—that an heir was Conceive the father’s pride and the mother’s joy when’ their marriage was thus blessed by the infant which now engrossed almost all their thoughts! They forgot that they were poor—they forgot that the titie to which an heir was born was but the veriest mockery without the means of supporting it! It was sufficient for them that they possessed a pledge of their mutual love; and they felt as if heaven were agaio smiling radiaotly upon them. It was in the evening of that same day in the morning of which the cnild was born, and Sir Bp- derick was seated alone in the little parlour at tha humble dwelling in Kentish Town. Worthy Mrs. Slater was paying a visit to the young mother, in whose bosom the babe was nestling; and we shuuld not omit to add that Agnes Evelyn had likewise | called on Lady Dalham during the day. But cur present business now lies in the little parlour, whero we find Sir Roderick seated alone. A fire was biileecinge in the grate—the candles were lighted upon the table—the newspaper which he had beea read- ing, was laid aside—and he was giving way to his reflections, when there was a double knock at the front door. The servant answered the summons; and entering the parlour, she announced Mrs, Barrington. Sir Roderick started up from his chair, and turned to greet the lady who was thus ushered into the room. They had met before: so that he would have known who the guadroon was even though her name had not been mentioned: —but she stopped short as her eyes fell upon his countenance: she remembered that she must have seen him be- fore, but she recollected not how nor where. “Mrs, Barrington,” he said, taking the qua- droon’s hand, “ you do not remember me. it is precisely a year since I had the pleasure of render- ing you some little service, as you were alighting from a vehicle at the door of a West Bad hotel “True!” ejaculated inily, as she now at onco recognised the tall good-looking personage who had saved her from being robbed by the idle street- boys. “Little did I expect to meet in Sir Rode- rick Dalham ae gentleman to whom I was already so deeply indebted.” “The service was a mere trifle,” said the Baro- net. ‘However, the recullection of our former meeting will heip to throw down the barriers of cold formality on the present occasion. We ought at once to be on good terms—we ought to be friends —there is a species of relationship between us, for my wife is the cousin of your husband f: “Ob, yes!’ exclaimed the quadroon, in a tone that seemed full of the most genuine fervour: “let us be friends! But I fear, by the very way in which you yourself made the overture, that you Comichboo