The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

TIE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. 143 this preface was to lead. ‘‘ What am I to under- stand ?” “That I have reasoned with myself,” con- tinued Selina,—“ that by means of a variety of circumstances I have been led to comprehend the basis on which it was proposed this alliance should be settled; and my soul revolts against the idea of being forced as a bride upon one who loves me not——and who perhaps loves an- other ?” “But your father, Selina?” exclaimed Os- borne: “he has written a terrible letter to my father—its terms are peremptory—he even fixes the da ” ‘‘They cannot drag me to the altar,” responded the young lady firmly; ‘‘ and of my own accord I will not go.” Launcelot gazed upon her with mingled asto- nishment and admiration: he wondered to hear her speak thus—and he admired her for the noble, the independent, and the spirited part which she was performing. Ue -had-never understood her real disposition nor comprehended the excellence of her qualities until now. ‘This morning,” she continuec, ‘‘I had a long and serious discourse with my father. I fear that your parents are in his power—I know not how, nor to what extent—but this I do know, that you are called upon to make a tremendous sacri- fice ”? “Tt would be paying the worst possible com- pliment to yourself, amiable and excellent young lady that you are!” eried Launcelot, “if I were to allow you to speak of this sacrifice in such strong terms. For any man might be happy in possessing you for his wife———unless indeed— unless? — Osborne paused, hesitated, and then added,—“ unless, indeed, he should chance to love another !” ‘And this”—Selina’s voice trembled, but it instantaneously grew firm—“ and this, Mr. Os- borne, is your case ?” “‘ With you I can practise no dissimulation— much less deal in falsehood. Yes, Selina—for I continue to address you thus familiarly, because even if I do not become your husband, there is no reason why I should not remain your friend,— yes, I will confess that I love another—one whom I had seen before I knew you But, Oh, heavens! you are ill? you seem as if you were about to faint ?” ‘No, Mr. Osborne—it is nothing. I am better now :”——and Selina, disengaging herself from his arms, as he sprang forward to support her, sank upon a seat. Though she had suspected that it was probable Launcelot might love another, yet when the avowal was made—when there was no longer a doubt, and consequently no room for a hope—the effect was like that of a shock upon her; and for an instant she had been unable to bear up against it. The little incident served to open Launeelot’s eyes to the fact that he was truly and veritably beloved by this young lady who was making the most magnanimous sacrifice of her own passion on his behalf. “Selina,” he said, in a low and tremulous voice, “it rends my soul to think that there | should be unhappiness or sorrow in any quarter on account of the part that I may have taken in these transactions. When I offered you my hand, | love I did not tell you that you possessed my heart—I did not altogether deceive you—but I feared that on the other hand you loved me I am now convinced of it—and Oh! I feel as if I were a wretch who has trifled with the best and purest feelings of one so good, so amiable, and so mag- nanimous as thou !” ‘* Do not reproach yourself,” said Selina. “To my father’s ambition must all these evils be traced. But you shall not be sacrificed. I will presently tell my father that of my own accord I have broken off everything betwixt you and me : I will aequit you of all blame—I will even declare that you yourself are still ready to make the sacrifice—but I will vow and protest that I will sooner perish by my own hand than be dragged to the altar !” “Oh, Selina!” murmured Launcelot, deeply affected 5 “‘ are you to make your own life miser- able 4 ‘Yes, sooner than steep your’s in misery ! Listen to me, Launcelot :’—and now for the first time during this interview she called him by his Christian name. “I will confess that I love you -—heaven knows how well !—too well to’ render you miserable! I will therefore do all I can to promote your happiness. If I refuse to accom- pany you to the altar, my father cannot prove so ufjust and cruel as to punish your family for his own daughter’s disobedience.” ‘“‘ Alas, Selina, he will do it! he will do it!” cried Osborne. ‘‘In his letter of yesterday to my father, he spoke of the possibility of certain fasti- dious punctiliousness existing between- the young people’—for thus he spoke of us; and he went on to say that he should hold me accountable for the result if I failed at the next interview with his daughter to convince her of my love and of my a ee to make her happiness the study of my ife.” ‘“Do your parents know that you love an- other ?” inquired Selina. ‘* Yes,” replied Launcelot. “I will tell you an incident. You remember that afternoon on which you were to call at Trentham House ?” ‘Yes : it was exactly three weeks ago.” ‘True. And a marvellous coincidence toek place,” continued Osborne. “On that day, and precisely at that hour, the very being whom I love beheld me in the street—she followed me to the house She was closely veiled —~+The cir- cumstances are so peculiar you will scarcely be- lieve them: but as heaven is my judge, I am | Speaking the truth !” ‘Oh, I believe you, Launcelot! I believe you !” | interjected Selina, as she gazed upon that hand- some countenance, with its frank honest expres- sion, and the pure light of intelligence that shone in the fine blue eyes. ‘‘ Proceed—proceed ! What happened ?” _ '* A strange series of mistakes and errors. That veiled one—the being whom I love—was greeted by my parents, who thought that they were wel- coming you. Then there was a scene between her and me—and I, thinking the while it was you, made a confession—told the tale of my real by) ** Yes—I understand !” murmured Selina. “‘ You told the tale of real love to her whom it most nearly and dearly concerned ?” “It wasso. But let me make an end of this tale COMO oO Colin