The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 27: what you’re looking at

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THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. 13 love, and make her think that it was nothing more than a sensuous flame. She caught the half-vanishing profile so perfect in its masculine beauty : the Baronet’s white teeth shone beneath the moustache which bowed the upper lip; and at the very same instant when he thought within himself that he had never seen her look so won- drously lovely, did she feel herself smitten with the conviction that he was handsomer than ever she had thought him to be, well as his counte- nance was known to her! “Tam not offended with you, Sir Abel,” she murmured: ‘I have no right to be. Alas! I feel and I know that my conduct has not been altogether consistent with prudence; and there have perhaps been looks which I have thrown upon you, and words which [I have unguardedly suffered to drop from my lips, that may have seemed like an encouragement ” “Oh! if you regret anything of all this,” inter- rupted Abel, “‘ tell me that you would wish to go back to that period when we were as mere formal acquaintances !—-when I dared not suffer my looks to mingle with your own—or my hand to linger in the clasp which it gave your’s—or my tone to catch the infection of my heart’s melting tenderness! Tell me that such is your wish— and I will at once assume that demeanour which shall be in accordance therewith! Yes!—for I value your happiness above all other earthly things; and sooner, sooner would I feel my own heart breaking, than that a single hair of your head should be injured !” The wily Baronet threw an ineffable pathos into his accents ; and now with anxious looks he watched to mark the effect that his words were to produce. Again was there the agitation through- out the entire form—that beautiful form in its evening toilet !—again was there the deepening flush upon the damask cheeks !—again the swell- ing of the bosom as if it must burst its prisonage of corset! A faintness came for a moment over the young Duchess; and then, obedient to a sud- den impulse, she ejaculated almost with vehe mence: ‘No! no! I am neither offended with you—nor do I wish to go back to the cold for- malities of our first acquaintance some months ago.” “Then why—why did you refuse ere now to take my arm?” asked Kingston: ‘“‘why did you even seem as if my presence was unwelcome to you when I offered to become your escort into the garden ?” The Duchess did not immediately answer these questions: she reflected deeply for some moments : and then at length she said, “I will tell you the truth, Sir Abel—I will be candid with you! I feared to find myself alone with you; but per- ceiving that it was impossible to avoid it, I sought to arm myself with as much coldness and reserve as possible——But Ah! what am I doing? It is a veritable confession that I am making! Leave me, Sir Abel !—leave me I entreat you!” “Oh, no! no!” he ejaculated, in a joyous tone: “not after these delightful encouraging words which have issued from your lips! Oh, it is an avowal of love—itis an admission that the strong sentiment I experience towards you is recipro- cated! Oh, Mary! beautiful Mary! I thank thee for that avowal !” Sir Abel Kingston sank upon one knee as he took the hand of the charming Duchess, and pressed it to his lips. It was the first time that he had ever ventured to call her by her Christian name; and the sound of that name, when thus spoken by a voice that was so full of masculine harmony, sent a thrill throughout her entire form. She abandoned her hand to him for some mo- ments; and he rapturously covered it with kisses. At the same time he flung a keen searching glance in the direction of a thicket of evergreens, in the immediate neighbourhood of which this scene took place: and he exclaimed, ‘Oh, Mary! Mary! how happy am I in the consciousness which I at length possess, that this love of mine is recipro- cated !” “Rise, rise, Abel!” she said, deeply agitated : and it was now also for the first time that she ad- dressed him by his Christian name. if any one were to observe us! And this reminds me,” she continued, as the Baronet rose and con- “Oh, what . tinued to walk by her side, “of the immense ' impropriety of my conduct! Oh,I beseech you to forget everything that has just passed be- tween us—I recall what I said—lI will admit no- thing! No, no! I will not permit you to put any interpretation you think fit upon those words which fell from my lips I know not how!” ‘Recall nothing, I beseech you!” exclaimed Kingston. ‘And why should you? You have suffered me to understand that you love me; and you have put me in possession of a degree of hap- piness from which I cannot part. And if it be happiness to you also to love one who will sin- cerely love you in return, wherefore should you not abandon yourself to that bliss? Your husband appreciates not your great beauty — he neglects you—nay, more than neglects you———” “Sir Abel Kingston,” interrupted the Duchess, with a certain degree of seriousness, if not of ab- solute severity in her tone, “donot seek to under- mine my sense of duty to my husband by mis- representing that conduct on his part which may perhaps be fully explained! You know the reason which compels me to remain chiefly at Thornbury. It is so absolutely necessary that my unfortunate mother-in-law should have the benefit of this beautiful fresh air. The comparatively close at- mosphere of our town-residence seems to kill her! But the Duke has his parliamentary duties to attend to during the Session—then, in the autumn there is the excursion to the moors in Scotland— and he has his shooting-box: 7 “But what if I were to tell you, Mary,” inter- rupted the Baronet, ‘that while you remain chiefly at Thornbury in order to devote yourself ‘to the care of the unfortunate Dowager-Duchess, —what should you think if I were to tell you that his Grace, your ducal husband, occupies his time during his frequent and prolonged absences in a manner very different from what you seem to imagine? What, in short, if I could prove to you that not merely have you become an object of indifference to him, but that a successful rival has usurped the place which you were wont to occupy in his heart ?” ‘‘Say no more! say no more, Sir Abel King- ston!” cried the young Duchess; “for I should not believe you! No, no! I cannot: thi ” “I swear to you,” exclaimed the Baronet, “that what I tell you is the exact truth. Your husband keeps a mistress to whom he is devotedly oO COMO com~