The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 358: what you’re looking at

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

D44 infancy ; and they, afraid perhaps of the conse- quences of the deed, consigned me to-the work- house. Years and years passed away—and I was looked upon by my relatives as irrevocably lost, until by some means a whisper reached Mr. Seymour's ear, which Jed him to make inquiries. It is too long a tale to tell now, Hester—but you know the result. And now,” hastily continued the ‘young man, “let me add something to render my history complete. No sooner was I installed in my luxurious apartments in Hanover Square— no socner was I in possession of ample means and could lavish gold as profusely as it was bestowed on me—than I again wondered, Hester, what might be your lot;—and now, there was no longer a reason’ why I should forbear from making inquiries concerning you. And so I lost no time in calling. at the lodgings which I knew. you occupied when last I,saw you—I mean on the day of my trial; and there—and there “Yes—I understand you, Edward,” murmured the young girl, in a scarcely audible voice, and again speaking with averted looks : “you learnt sufficient to make you aware that I had fallen very low ; and though all trace was lost of me, yet was it surmised that I must still be plying a loathsome traffic for my bread.” “ And then I vowed to find: you,” continued Walpole hurriedly: ‘I swore that I would never rest until I should have learnt what had become of you. And so, night after night I plunged amidst all the scenes of crime’ and debauchery— scattering about my gold as if it were so much dross, in the hope that by the inqitiries which I set on foot I might obtain the clue that I sought. Yes—night after night" ' Good heavens!” interrupted Hester, shudder- ing from head to foot, and with a look which for a moment was absolutely ghastly ; ‘what fearful risks you incurred in visiting such hideous dens! Oh, I know them but too well!”—and the young girl shivered visibly as she lay half-reclining npon the sofa. ‘‘ Yes, Iam aware of it now,” responded Ed- ward ; e but I entertained no such apprehensions at first. I too tremble when I think of the fear- ful risks I ran—the horrible perils I may have escaped! I used to visit those places dressed in the same costume in which perhaps I had just quitted the theatre—displaying my jewellery, not from any idle vanity, but simply from an utter thoughtlessness of the folly of such an unguarded proceeding. And thus I went on until two or three days ago, when a circumstance which filled the entire metropolis with horror, suddenly had the effect of rendering me cautious; so that before Iagain set out on my expeditions, I dressed my- self in shabby attire, threw on a rough loose overcoat, and imitated the part of some profligate of a lower degree, instead of the reckless spend- thrift of a higher order. But, good heaven, Hester ! you are fainting!” ~“ No, no!—I shall be better presently,” mur- mured the young girl, who was as pale as death. ‘'Give me some water, Edward. © Thank you! Yes—I am betternow. Oh, how deep is my gra- tilude for these self-sacrifices which you have made on my account !—plunging into those haunts of infamy which must have been loath- some to you—seeking those vile neighbourhoods which were so perilous TT ler TA nb ST YEE 2 ED RN er OT Vib YOUNG DUCIESS 5 OR, MEMOIRS OF “a Say A LADY OF QUALITY. no more upon the subject, Hester ! Heaven be thanked that my efforts were crowned with success, and that I discovered you after a comparatively short search ; while. on the other hand I escaped all such perils as those whereof the hideous crime of the other day may be re- garded as a fearful and. mysterious illustration ! But, Oh! again you look very ill, Hester! Ah, your nerves are fearfully unstrung—and I am ex- citing you !” “No, no—it is not you!” murmured the yeung girl, recovering herself with a desperate effort just as she was about to sink off into a swoon: “it is not you that are exciting me, Edward! It is the horrible subject which haunts my brains Did I not just now tell you that when I recounted the particulars of my history, from the date of our separation down to that of our.meeting the night before last, I omitted one incident ?” “Yes: and I enjoined you not to think of it any more if it were a painful topic. I repeat that injunction, Hester,” added Walpole em- phatically. “But I cannot obey you, Indward: thing that I must tell you!” “Do not harass or distress yourself thus, Hester!—do not, I conjure you! But listen to me. I wish to speak to you seriously—there is happiness in store for you—much happiness! I have a revelation to make—prepare yourself: But the young girl was too much’ absorbed in the horrible recollections that were now upper- most in her mind to heed what Walpole was say- ing to her, or even to catch the sense of his words; and suddenly grasping him violently by the wrist, she exclaimed impatiently, and almost petulantly, “Listen tome !—do listen to me! Let me speak.” “ Think how you are exciting yourself, Hester ! I tremble ‘““My excitement will grow fearful if you do not let me‘unbosom myself of this dread secret!” —and there, was now something so strange and peculiar in the young girl’s look, tone, and man- ner, that Walpole gazed upon her with mingled bewilderment and consternation. ‘ And yet it is a secret which must be kept even by you when I tell it. Swear to me, Edward—swear that you will never open your lips to-reveal this secret unless you receive my permission !” “Good heavens! what mean you?” asked Walpole, struck with a vague and horrible sus- © picion as he recollected to what fearful topic allu- sions had recently been made in the conversation. ' “Swear first of all, Edward! swear,” cried the young girl vehemently, ‘that you will never betray the horrible secret !” “Hester, you will kill yourself with this ex- citement !” ‘No, no!—it is you who are killing me, be- ease you will not do my bidding. Swear, I ask you!’ “‘T cannot, Hester! I dare not—I must not take such an oath! You distress me cruelly— you frighten me horribly! Oh, what—what do you mean ?” ““T mean that I have no longer a confidant nor a friend in Edward Walpole,” responded the girl, rising with a sort of sullen dignity from her seat; ‘‘and therefore I will not for another mo- ment accept the asylum he has given me,” it is some- COMO YN Wn) Colin