The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 174: what you’re looking at

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160 “ I now effected a precipitate retreat from the folding-doors. I did not eater the drawing-room to tetch my fur cuffs. I threw myself into the droshky in a state of imind that may perhaps better be conceived than described. I was half contounded, half distracted. . What terrible reve- lations had met my ears! Mildred séduced—un- done—in a way to become a mother! The Nevels no doubt the infamous tools and agents of some licentious nobleman of distinction! Oh, with what feelings had I listened to the terrible tale! How it was that I restrained-myself from bursting into the apartment, overwhelming Mildred with re- proaches, and inflicting summary vengeance upon the base wretch Madame Nevel, I do not know. But perhaps there was at the time in my thoughts the consideration that I had better proceed cau- tiously, and first of all ascertain who my child’s seducer was. Indeed, when I grew comparatively calm—or, at least, when after my return home I was enabled to deliberate upon the entire circum- stances of the case, I determined’ to adopt this prudential policy. And yet how difficult to dis- | semble my feelings when Mildred came back !— and Oh! as I looked in her face, and saw how eminently beautiful she was, I could not help mentally apostrophizing her a thousand times during the remainder of that day, to this effect, ‘ Art thou indeed a wanton and a hypocrite ?’ - “ At length I retired to rest—but still to pon- der painfully and in sleeplessness the ruin that had overtaken my daughter. I now recollected a thousand little circumstances which previously seemed trivial, but which were now all significant in their connexion with the one tremendous fact. Her change of mind in respect to leaving St. Petersbirgh —the encomiums which Dr. Nevel had passed upon her filial devotion—the praises which she in her turn had accorded unto the phy- sician-—the growing frequency and increasing length of her visits to Madame Nevel—every- thing was now explained! Yes—andI even re- member that it was her own hand which had _ added the turtle-doves to the water-colour portrait drawn by her late governess ; so that I had now no doubt in my mind she had intended that por- trait as a present to her seducer if I had not in my maternal love taken a sudden fancy to it and insisted upon having it to place in my Album. ‘But let me not dwell upon trifling details ; for I am now approaching a stupendous incident in my narrative. It is the custom at St. Peters- burgh—or at least was during the many years of my sojourn there, to hold a fancy-fair upon the frozen bosom of the Neva just before the arrival of the season for the breaking up of the ice. There was no particular date for the holding of the fair: it was annually regulated by the seve- rity and duration of the cold’ weather, and it was considered as a sort of farewell to Winter and welcome to Summer. Madame Nevel sent a note early in the morning to Mildred, requesting her company to visit the fair. The billet was of course written for the purpose of blinding my eyes to what was going on; and I could scarcely prevent myself from springing in a rage at my daughter when with every appearance of deferential meek- ness she handed it to me, requesting my permis- sion to accept the invitation. I however restrained myself and bade her go. The appointment’ she had made with her seducer was for four in the ees ee THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. afternoon. Slowly—Oh, how slowly passed the long hours until three o’clock!—and then, en- veloping myself in my furs, I issued forth from the house, took my seat in a droshky, and re- paired to the banks of the Neva. The dusk was already closing in; and myriads of lamps were springing as it were into light. The frozen sur- face of the river was covered with booths and wooden sheds — places of refreshment and of amusement — theatres and dancing saloons. It was a sort of carnival amongst the lower orders, who were dressed in masquerading costumes, pic- turesque and grotesque—droll or serious—in short, representing all the various features which are usual on such occasions. There was the usual sprinkling of police-officials, and numbers of the Imperial Guards strutting about in their green uni- forms. There were ladies and gentlemen—nobles and the female members of the highest aristocracy —and I heard a whisper to the effect that some of the Princes of the Imperial family had also mingled in the busy scene. However, I had no interest in any circumstance of this kind: all my ideas were concentrated on one object. I passed amidst the crowd with a thick veil over my face, and in’a short time I beheld the physi- cian and his wife glancing behind them in a par- ticular direction as they walked forward with a certain air of mystery. Keeping out of their view, I sped towards the same point in which their looks had travelled ; and by aid of the bril- liant illuminations, I presently discerned Mildred leaning upon the arm of the same tall gentleman in whose company I had seen her on the preceding day. I knew him by his gait and his height, for he was muffled in a cloak the fur collar of which almost completely concealed his countenance. A sudden sickness at the heart seized upon me—my brain reeled—and I staggered against the wooden wall of an amphitheatre. The spectacle of my daughter walking so familiarly with a paramour, and the doubt which existed whether he would make her an honourable woman, were almost too much for me to bear up against! To the little incident which I am just relating I was probably indebted for my life. For all of a sudden a fear- ful din, or rather a horrible assemblage and suc- cession of sounds smote the ear. The cracking of the ice—the escape of the previously confined air, exploding with the roar of thunder or of cannon—the falling-in of wooden structures, min- gled with the cries, the screams, the yells of hor- ror and shrieks of anguish which indicated the terrible catastrophe. Long lines of illuminations, which had crossed the Neva in every direction, sank and disappeared from the view, so that dark- ness soon lent its added horrors to the scene. Ten paces from the spot where I halted the ice opened at my feet like a yawning gulf; and if I had not been held back by the force of my own feelings I should have perished. Oh, it was an awful scene! I cannot dwell upon it. Even now the brain reels and memory recoils from the retrospective contemplation. How I got away from that stage of horrors I know not: I had no distinct remem- brance of anything definite until I found myself alighting from a vehicle at my own door. Had Mildred returned ? ‘No,’ was the answer.—‘ Let some one speed at once to Dr. Nevel’s house and inquire for her there !—One of the servants went. Oh, the agonies of suspense that I en. o COMO YN Wn) Colin