The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 238: what you’re looking at

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

224 —and he spoke with an air of sincerity which produced an immediate effect on the Duchess,— ‘‘ will you believe me when I swear that I never ten a syllable with that person in my ife The Duchess reflected in an agitated manner, and then she said, “One word! I entreat you, one word! Am I betrayed by any one in whom I have placed confidence ?—my own maid, for in- stance ?” “Can you think,” interjected Mandeville, with a tone expressive alike of reproach and indigna- tion, “ that I should condescend to tamper with menials ?” ‘‘ Pardon— pardon me!” said the Duchess. ‘* But good heavens! what would you have me think? No, no! it would be ridiculous !” ‘‘ What would be ridiculous ?” “To suppose that you possess a preternatural power.” Mandeville remained silent for nearly a minute; and there was something in this silence that was more than solemn—it was indeed awful for the patrician lady. She knew not what to think. Her good sense and her intelligence prompted her to discard the idea of anything supernatural in connexion with this man: but how, on the other hand, was she to account for the knowledge which he possessed of her affairs and the marvellous truthfulness with which he had probed all her conduct with Sir Abel Kingston ? * Tell me—tell me,” she said, “who and what you are, mysterious being !” “YT am Hippolyte Mandeville,” he answered, “the most enthusiastic admirer of the Duchess of Ardleigh :”—then, hastily drawing forward one of the crimson draperies in front of the box, he took off his mask, raised the fair patrician’s hand, and pressed it to his lips. At that instant an individual habited like a Turk, with a large turban, flowing garments, and huge trousers, and whose countenance was com- pletely concealed by his mask, peeped over the parapet. of the box, and surprised Mandeville as he was imprinting his lips upon the hand of the Duchess. The Turk instantaneously -withdrew: the Dichess snatched away her hand, and Mande- ville readjusted his mask in the twinkling of an eye. ‘“‘Good heavens ! who could that have been ?” ejaulated the Duchess. ‘‘No matter,” replied the Count. ‘“ At all events he could not know you—and it is of little consequence that he should have seen or recog- nised my face. Besides, he is evidently a person of discretion as well as of curiosity ; for when he had gratified the latter by peeping into the box, he gave a signal proof of the former by vanish- ing at once.” ‘Do you see him now ?” asked the Duchess. “No: he was instantaneously lost amidst the crowd. But let us think no more of that inci- dent,” continued Mandeville; ‘‘ and, Oh! let me recall your attention to a more tender topic! You know not the deep impression that you have made upon my heart. If I were fortunate enough to be the husband of so beauteous and charming a being, my life would be one uninterrupted demon- stration of love and devotedness towards you. And, Oh! think you not that circumstances have already seemed to indicate that there is something 4a THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. in my destiny which must interweave itself with your’s? Ah! you sta ” “Yes, yes: for that idea has occurred to me!” —and'‘then, after a moment’s pause, the brilliant Duchess ejaculated, ‘“‘ Oh, if there were less mys- tery about you—if you would treat me with a greater amount of confidence——” : “Proceed, proceed,” said Mandeville: ‘speak unhesitatingly ! tell me what you would say !” “T would say—lI would say,” continued the Duchess, “ that after the fervid language you have held towards me,—language which is appa- rently so sincere Tt is sincere,” interjected Mandeville: and he pressed her hand with warmth. “T would say, then,” continued the Duchess— and a blush was again upon her cheeks, as might be seen by the crimson hue that appeared below the mask,—“ I would say, then, that situated as I am with my husband—feeling the want of some one ou whose loving friendship I could rely,—yes, and I will even admit that feeling the necessity of loving some’ one and being beloved in re- turn———” “Ah, Mary—dearest Mary,” murmured Man- deville, ‘I understand you—and all that I could hope or expect has now emanated from your lips! A thousand, thousand thanks! I am not indif- ferent to you—and you shall love me! Oh, I will make you love me! Never has woman yet experienced’ such devotion from man as that which I will demonstrate towards you! I know that for a moment you fancied that I had by some means acquired a power over you, and that I meant to use it with a tyrannous effect. But, Oh! you were mistaken! I will not be your tyrant—neéither will I be your slave. There shall ‘be a manly affection and a sincere friendship on my part: there shall be confidence and reliance on your's!” Such language as this, when flowing in a voice of the finest masculine harmony, upon the ear of a woman of a temperament that was more or less fervid and of a heart that was more or less sus- ceptible, could not fail to produce all tha effect that was desired. And it did so. The young Duchess contrasted, as her new admirer went on speaking, his mode of address with that which Sir Abel Kingston had been wont to adopt towards her; and she now felt that she was under the influence of a charm and a spell such as she had not known before. And then that very mystic power to which the Count had been alluding—the power which he had so signally displayed in proving his knowledge of her most cherished secrets—that same power, too, which still remained unexplained—combined with other influ- ences to strengthen the Count’s cause as he pleaded it, and to render the young Duchess weaker and weaker in any attempt which she might have made to resist him. And then too, all in a mo- ment she remembered that he was the object of an universal interest—sought for and courted in “ that fashionable world into which he had so re- cently burst like a wild erratic star ;—and there was something eminently gratifying to the pride even of the brilliant Duchess that she should have been the one—the only one—amidst all the galaxy of English beauties who had made an im- pression on the distinguished foreigner. Such at least was the idea with which she flattered herself; oO Connicloooks Colin