The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 316: what you’re looking at

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

a 802 THE YOUNG DUCHESS; ultation in her accents: but her voice almost immediately grew feeble again, as she went on to say, ‘I must make an end of this confession of mine. Picture therefore to yourself. an unfor- tunate woman at the dead of night, inspired by maniac thoughts—guided by a fiend—possessing herself of a murderous weapon—clutching it as if she were at length possessed of the means of rid- ding herself of some terrible enemy and perform- ing an act of righteous justice! Then continue in your imagination to follow in the footsteps of that wretched being whose only justification 1 is that she was a maniac—follow her, I say—ascend those stairs with her as she trips so lightly that not a step shall creak beneath her feet-—pass with her through the dressing-room—enter into the bed- -chamber—proceed with her to the side of the couch wherein her victim reposes! And then— and then—something flashes before the eyes in the gleaming of the night-lamp! —it is the mur- derous steel!—and deep it goes down into the bosom of the unfortunate creature, whose earthly sleep is this suddenly changed, without 4 moan, and almost without a convulsion, into the eternal slumber, of death !” ‘The Dowager had gradually raised her voice with the excitement, of the horrible description ; and there was for a few instants a maniac glitter in her eyes ; so that a dread effect was produced upon her listening daughter-in-law, who again found the suspicion stealing into her mind that the Dowager'’s reason was not completely re- established upon its throne. “And then how I exulted! how I rejoiced !” she proceeded. “It was as if a veritable fiend were holding his hideous holiday in my soul, ren- dering it a pandemonium of everything evil and abhorrent! Oh, Mary, you must loathe and de- test me as you listen to these shocking details !” ‘No, no, dear mother! think not that I shall regard you thus! You were not in your right senses at the time!—you are not responsible for the thoughts that accompanied the deed, any more than you are for the deed itself!” “* Are zou sure of this? Oh, if I could only think so! the unfortunate lady were completely sane and rational once more. “Believe me—believe me, dear mother,” re- OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. under the pillow of the murdered woman ; and I left the outer door of the dressing-room unlocked, Do you know why ? It was because I was seized with a sudden notion that it would be better not to let it be known that I perpetrated the dread deed. It was not remorse that smote me: on the contrary, I continued to chuckle with a savage joy—for I felt assured that I had slain a fiend in human shape! But some instinctive cunning prompted me to conceal the authorship of the crime: so I thought that by leaving the door un- locked and restoring the keys to their proper place, it would seem as if Mrs. Quinlan had gone to bed without locking that particular door at all, and that some unknown assassin had thus been enabled to penetrate thither. Down to that point, Mary, do I récollect the ideas and motives which swayed my conduct; and then there follows a complete blank, until I awoke to find myself lying here, my brow bandaged on account of a fall, and the lamp of reason rapidly flaming up in my brain !” . “‘ What, dear mother!” asked the young Duchess eagerly: ‘‘ you recollect nothing which occurred in the interval ?” “Nothing,” was the response. ‘ Yes!—I do remember that I went to bed to, be sure | I remember it now! And then—and then ‘“ Never mind reflecting!” interrupted our hero- roine: ‘do not distress yourself, dear mother ! do not bewilder your brain by uselessly exercising it !” “No—I will not,” answered the Dowager, whose voice was now so faint as to be scarcely audible. . There was a long pause, during’ which the young Duchess; while meditating intently upon all she had heard, naturally came to the satis- factory conclusion that her mother-in-law’s mind was a complete blank in respect to everything which had occurred that might in any way com- promise her. It was even evident that when the Dowager had awakened in the morning, she had recollected nothing of the awful occurrences of the preceding night: she had not even retained the *—and now the lesle and manner of | consciousness of her own awful deed. She had. forgotten that she was a murderess! And thus in the confused and jumbled state of her ideas and reminiscences, she had associated the sponded the young Duchess urgently, ‘‘ you have} image of Mandeville with the death of the unfor- committed no crime for which human laws would condemn you or heavenly ones hold you answer- able! —And now continue. But quick! and make an end of a narrative the details of which excite you so much !” The Dowager reflected for a few moments; and then she said, “I recollect that when I first plunged the weapon into the poor creature’s bosom —God forgive me !—very little blood indeed came forth; but when I was going to draw out the knife, it spirted out all over my hand and the sleeve of my night-dress.” tunate woman; and when she had caught a glimpse of his ‘form concealed behind the cur- tains, she was smitten with an overwhelming terror at the idea that she there beheld the fiend who had done the deed. All these facts were now sufficiently evident to the comprehension of the young Duchess; who was solemnly and awfully impressed with the whole series of intidents that had occurred at Thornbury within the last four- and-twenty hours. Her reflections lasted for some minutes,—at the expiration of which she looked towards her “The sleeve of your night-dress ?” ejaculated mother-in-law, whose eyes were now closed, and the young Duchess. “Why, there was not a mark a _ — “No, dear Mary——I changed it,” replied the Dowager. ‘ The blood-stained garment will be found at the bottom of the large wardrobe, which I took good care to lock, I washed my hand in who appeared to be dozing. There was presently a gentle knock at the door : our heroine hastened to answer it; and Mr. Brooks, the surgeon, proved to be the individual who sought admit- tauce. ‘“‘ Tlow is her Grace ?” he asked, in a cautious the dressing-room, and I made no further attempt | whisper, as he entered the apartment. “T thought to draw forth the knife, I replaced the keys| that I had better come to inquire, for upwards of COMO YN Wn) Colin