The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 315: what you’re looking at

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THE YGUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. something which you do not recollect, and which indeed is of no consequence.” ‘Twas very angry with Mrs. Quinlan,” re- sumed the Dowager; ‘ and I have the most per- fect recollection of the idea which was uppermost inmy mind. Oh! you cannot conjecture, Mary, how strange, how wild, and how terrible are the hallucinations which may take possession of the fevered fancy! Methought that the woman was «a fiend—a ghost—a spectre—a dark spirit of evil ‘Yes, yes. What then, dear mother ?” asked our heroine, with nervous quickness; for she dreaded the channel into which the Dowager’s thoughts now seemed to be once more flowing. ‘“‘T was inspired with mingled rage and terror on account of that woman. Alas, poor creature! she became the victim of my hallucination. I could not control my own thoughts—I was not the mistress of my own mind—and therefore I was equally unable to exercise a control over my actions. Instead of a good, well-meaning, con- scientious, though somewhat arbitrary woman as she really was, I beheld before me naught but a fiend in human shape—a ‘horrible spectre that was haunting me—a demon that had taken a female form for the purpose of working me a mis- chief! Ah, everything now becomes vividly clear once more!” “What ? what ?” asked our heroine, still with nervous quickness. ‘‘ All the thoughts which took possession of my brain,” pursued the Dowager. ‘I fancied that the fiend in female shape was laying in wait to kill me, and that if I gave her an opportunity she would take my life. And thus, Mary—and thus,” added the Dewager, with a hollow voice and haggard look, “I resolved upon taking her life in order to save my own!” There was a pause, during which the elder Duchess seemed to reflect painfully, and the other one nervously and anxiously. At length the former resumed :— “T got into my bed, and shut my eyes, pre- tending to be asleep, though in reality I had not the faintest inclination to slumber. I recollect all this now! I heard Mrs Quinlan ask if I wanted anything. I did not answer her—but I pretended to breathe as if I were sleeping. Oh, the dissimu- Jation of which I was guilty !” “You could not help it, dear mother: you were not responsible for it!—Why do you look at me in that strange manner? Speak, speak! Why do you not answer me ?” “Iwas thinking, Mary,” answered the Dowager, in a slow deliberate manner, ‘“ whether it were possible that I could have been altogether mad? —whether if my reason had been completely overturned, I could have practised so much dis- simulation?—for now thatI look back on all the details of the fearful deed, I recoil shudderingly from the dread thought that there was a certain amount of calculation displayed therein—a method —a cunning—I scarcely know what term to use ” ‘*Tranquillize yourself, dear mother, on this head,” interjected our heroine: “for, alas! all these charges which you are now bringing against, yourself, are often the symptoms of various con- ditions of mental infirmity—they are psycho- logical phenomena well known to exist-——” pe pa 801 “Tf that beso, Mary, my conscience is relieved from a sudden weight which had fallen upon it.” “And now therefore you may proceed to ex- plain how—how-——” ‘“‘T will make the storyshort. I had no idea it would prove so long when I first entered upon it! JIlay awake, as I was saying—and after a while I felt convinced that Mrs. Quinlan slept. I was resolved to kill her. But how? I need not tell you that the utmost care was taken to leave nothing of a dangerous nature within my reach. The devil that was prompting me, suggested that I should descend into the servants’ offices and pro- cure a knife. IJ knew the outer doors were always locked: I knew also that Mrs. Quinlan kept the keys under her pillow though I have now no recollection how I could have discovered a fact which she would have doubtless taken every pre- caution to guard from my knowledge. But per- haps, with that cunning which, as you have ex- plained, belongs to certain conditions of mental infirmity, I may have kept watch at times when pretending to be asleep—as was the case last night. But of this I have no positive recollection. How- ever, suffice it to say that I knew the keys were there,—yes, there, beneath the pillow of the sleep- ing woman !—and I resolved to obtain possession of them. Let me reflect !”—and again was the hand raised tothe bandaged brow. ‘Ah, I remember! I was nearly half an hour in gently drawing forth those keys from beneath the pillow. 1 did not suffer them to give forth the slightest sound—I held them as noiseless as was the tread of my own naked feet upon the carpet. Yes—and I recollect, too, that I was inspired by a fierce savage joy: there was a ferocious chuckling within me as I went about my horrible work. Oh! how all the cun- ning to which we ere now alluded, and which characterises mad people, was shown in the stealthy caution of my movements !—for is it not astonishing, Mary, that they could have been conducted so carefully as to fail to arouse a woman who from the very nature of her avocation must have learnt the habit of light-sleeping ?” ‘* 'Yes—it is a wonder that you did not disturb her,” answered the young Duchess, as she recol- lected how the late keeper was wont to boast that she slept so lightly the slightest thing would awaken her. ‘‘And thus I succeeded in getting the keys from under the pillow while she still slept,” re- sumed the Dowager; ‘“ and I glided into the dressing-room—I unlocked the door opening on the servants’ landing—and I remember that I looked round, more than half convinced that I should see Mrs. Quinlan standing behind me ready to thrust forth her arm, clutch me with her strong hand, and drag me back. Again there- fore I chuckled with a savage joy when I suc- ceeded in reaching the bottom of the staircase and found myself on the threshold of the servants’ offices. I chose a knife, Mary,” added the Dowager, in a hoarse voice.—" Are you not tired of listening to this horrible narrative ?” ‘‘T listen to it,” replied the young Duchess, ‘‘as one listens to a confession which relieves the soul of the person making it. I listen therefore, dear mother, in order that I may be enabled to sym- pathise with you all the more deeply !” “Oh! that I am sure you will do, Mary !” ex- exclaimed her mother-in-law, with a joyous ex- COMO YN Wn) Colin