The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 33: what you’re looking at

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THE YOUNG DUCHESS: OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. siuemeeuen m) countenance — and good figure. He had brown hair, curling naturally——and fine blue eyes. The expression of his face conveyed the idea of blended intelligence and amiability. He looked like a good young man rather than a high-spirited one; and if any one on pointing him out to another, had said that he cultivated poetry, that he was fond of music and the fine arts—that he was an affectionate son, a kind brother, and a good- natured friend—the description would precisely cotrespond with the first impression made by the young man’s appearance. He was neatly yet plainly dressed: his toilet indicated a perfect geri- tility of taste, and his manner was altogether that | of the well-bred gentleman without pride or pre- |i tension. Such was the young gentleman whose appear- | ance produced a sudden effect upon Imogen Hart- land. He was proceeding slowly on his way, and |. with an air of pensiveness, so far as she could judge at that distance. He was looking neither to the right nor to the left: she felt convinced that he did not notice her; and she could not help following him. Her veil was drawn down over her countenance: she had on a different ap- parel from any that she had ever worn before :— it was plainer and more simple ; for whereas she had once been wont to dress showily, like her friend Alice Denton, she had become more and more simple in her taste ever since the love she had conceived for the handsome young strangér had spread its influence over all the phases of her mind. He pursued his way without glancing to the right or to the left, much less stopping’ to look behind him, until he reached Berkeley Square. There he halted suddenly and looked at his watch: and then ke swept his eyes rapidly around. Imogen had abruptly stopped short also ; for she was all in a Moment struck with the impropriety of her conduct in thus following the young stranger, ard she affected to be looking in quite another direction. around, she saw him standing on the upper step of a house about fifty yards off: he had a white ker- ebief in his hand—and a thrill shot through her heart as she fancied that he waved it signifi- cantly. Ther he disappeared from her view. With a brain intoxicated as it were under the influence of wine—full of mingled rapture and suspense—hope and fear wildly conflieting,—and obeying an irresistible impulse,—Imogen sped to- wards that house. The front door stood open; and a fat hall-porter, with « powdered wig and a very red face, was standing on the threshold. As Imogen reached the bottom step, the porter stood back from the door-way as if in a respectful man- ner to make way for her. She paused for a single instant : then she ascended the steps ; and at the further end of the hall she beheld the handsome young gentlerian just beginning the ascent of a wide marble staircase. He glanced back on ob- serving her: he stopped short: for a moment: it seemed as if he were about to descend to speak to her: and then, as if a second thought struck him, | he contented himself with bowing in a manner sufficiently courteous—and he continued his way up the staircase. “Be so kind as to step into this room, ma’am,” said the hall-porter, wlio had alréady thrown open & side-door communicating from the hall. When she. again glanced | ‘pictures through her veil—which Imogen, who was under the influence of i irre- sistible feelings, crossed the threshold; and thé door closed behind her. Then she felt convinced that the course thus pursued by the hall-porter was in obedience to some rapidly uttered mandate which the young gentleman had given as he en- tered the house; and she said to herself, “‘ He did wave his kerchief significantly after all! He evidently resides here; and he has resolved that the aceident whieh has thrown me in his way and led me to follow him, should furnish likewise the opportunity for explanations!—-But who can he be ?” CHAPTER IV. é THE HOUSE IN BERKELEY SQUARE. Ir was a handsome dining-room into which Imo- gen had thus been shown: the furniture was mas- sive and rich; and the walls were hung with Portraits - of imposing-looking gentlemen and ladies of stately appearance. Some of the pictures were evidently old, not merely from the dingy aspect of the canvass, which was also cracked in some places, but likewise from the quaintness of the costumes. But in the recesses on éither side of the fire-place, there were two portraits which had a fresh appearance as if théy had been re- cetitly executed. One represented a thin, pale- faced man, with an aristocratic countenance, and who was of the middle age. The other portrait _was that of a lady, also pale, with very handsome ‘ features, and whose age might be some ten years under that of the one we have just been noticing. In both the artist had, with an evident fidelity, even to the view of one to whom the originals ‘were unknown, preserved a certain air of cold severe pride which blended with the general ex- | pression of their countenance. Imogen had just finished contem: lating these she still kept over her countenance, not for any studied motive, but simply from the fact that in the agitation of her thouglits it did not occur to her that she ought | to raise it—when the door opened, and two per- sonages entered the room. They were a gentleman and a lady; and a glance throwrt at each, showed that they’ were the originals of the two portraits which had just been engaging her attention. She was now seized with confusion: she wondered who they could be, and to what this adventure was to lead. She was smitten with disappoint- ment ayd surprise that the opening of the door had not given admission to the handsome young gentleman whose image was uppermost in her fioughts. She nevertheless had presence of mind sufficient to incline in a graceful and respectful manner towards these two personages. We should observe that they both looked a few years older than they seemed in their portraits, so that the age of the gentleman might be about fifty-five and that of the lady proportionately younger. Both countenances wore an expression alike sad and severe, blended with an air of aris-~ | tocratic pride; and the resemblances to the two portraits were unmistakable. “ Be seated,” said the gentleman, indicdfing a chair; and at the same time he arid’ the lady oO Connicloooks SACO