Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 392: what you’re looking at

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

| | | sll AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE, enough to make an impression on her mind? By Jove! I was after all sorry that I took her to that ecene! it was a shocking thing for a young girl!” | —-and while he thus spoke, Hector earnestly surveyed his wife’s countenance, to ascertain whe- ther she suspected the one stupendous fact con- nected with that awful duel. “At first I naturally attributed her altered looks and manner to that shocking occurrence: but latterly ——TI really ——It is asad thing even to think of—but it would be terrible if the suspicion should be realized 4 “ Good heavens! what do you mean, Cicely ?” again cried Hector. ‘ For God’s sake speak !’” “You would be very angry with me, Hector, if it should turn out to be a mere surmise on my part——-” “Speak, speak! I shall not be angry!”’—and tortured with suspense, he mentally ejaculated, * What in the name of God can she mean P” “T must tell you,” proceeded Cicely, still shift- ing and shuffling with the main question,—* I must tell you that she consulted a surgeon very mysteriously in Florence—she obtained some medi- cine, which she endeavoured to conceal from me —I only discovered it by accident ’ ** What—what can you mean, Cicely ?” and all Hector’s suspicions and fears were now suddenly turned into another channel, “ Do you really suppose that—that i “TI tell you, Hector, that I am diffident in giving utterance to the idea, because if it should prove incorrect you might think I had some mali- cious spite or ill-will against poor Josephine.” “No, no, Cicely! But you suspect, then—you suspect mi ‘That she has a second time fallen into error,” rejoined Mrs, Hardress, “and that she is now ina way to become a mother.” Hector became pale as death. He himself was profligate and debauched : he had even consented to acompact whereby his own wife should have become dissolute : but he was seized with rage and affliction at the idea of his sister treading the paths of frailty. It was his pride that was thus deeply concerned: for if it were known that she, in her unmarried state, was a wanton, the disgrace would redound upon the entiro family. it was through no moral motive that Hector was so pro- foundly sensitive on the point; and as for his sister's virtue, he cared nothing more for it than in so far as it was connected with the opinion of the world. “ And you think this, Cicely?” he said, after a pause. “T have told you whatI think, Hector, There are various little circumstances which tond to cor- roborate this idea But at the same time I would not for the world that you should go and accuse Josephine point-blank, or attack her in an intemperate mood € **T will not do so. rive at a certainty upon the point. the matter in your hands.” * Be it so,” interjected his wife. ‘ And now lot me entreat that you do not exhibit any aitered demeanour towards Josephine.” “I wili do nothing to make her suspect that ae suspect her. Go and talk to her now I do sot wish to meet her for the present———I It is for you, Cicely, to ar- I must leave will go and take a stroll—I must compose my. feelings.” With these words Hector quitted the apart- ment; and he was about to issue forth from the hotel to lounge through the streets, when a ve- hicle drove into the court-yard—a young, active, good-looking valet leapt down from the box —the door of the chaise was opened — and a young gentleman clad in deep mourning alighted. * Ah! my dear Hailes!” ejaculated Hardress, at once recognising him, “I had been thinking of you !” “ And I of you!” responded Andrew: and the two young men shook hands cordially. “I was wondering whether you meant to go and surrender to your bail “4 “Of course ! asked Hector. “Most certainly. I am assured that there is nothing to apprehend—nothing to fear,—that as everything was feir, straightforward, and honour- able _ “Oh! yes—certainly !—there is nothing to fear!” interjected Hardress. “ But you are io mourning P” “ Yes—for my uncle.” “ Ah! the old gentleman is dead ?” “He died two months ago. He came abroad with me—he was taken ill. at Baden—we moved to the South of France—and he breathed his last at Pau.” “And I hope,” said Hardress, “that he did not disappoint whatever expectations you may have formed P—I mean in @ pecuniary respect P” “ Far from it,” responded Hailes. ‘‘ He was a worthy old man! He left me everything. Indeed he was much richer than I could possibly have ex- pected ——I think I shall have at least eight thousand a-year when all the affairs come to be settled.” “T most sincerely congratulate you, my dear fellow!” exclaimed Hector. ‘“ By the bye, that valet of your’s is ean uncoramon emart-looking fellow ——” “Do you think so?” observed Hailes care- lessly. ‘‘ Indeed he is! so genteel—so handsome !” “‘ Well—I never particularly noticed him,” said Andrew. “Buf about this duel—this trial I mean—for I cannot help thinkiag of it-———” “T am glad I have fallen in with you; because there are several little matters in which I may be enabled to prompt you ‘4 “Why, I shall not be examined in the court!” ejaculated Andrew. “ No—but in instructing counsel, I mean— in giving an account of the business to your lawyer if ‘Let us step into the hotel. staying here P” “Yes,” replied Hardress. ‘My wife and ? But here he stopped short, for he was about to add the words “my sister,” when he suddenly re- collected that this same sister of his was only known to Andrew Hailes as D7. Godolphin, a being in masculine attire,—instead of the Hon. Miss Josephine Hardress, a young lady in female raiment. He was instantly smitten with the 10 convenience of the meeting—the embarrassment of Have you the same intention ?” Of course you are Comichook (©) S|