The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 363: what you’re looking at

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TIE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. 349 ge ter SS A SS girl’s eyes; and it was well that such proved to be the case; for her, mind became refreshed and strengthened against the hour appointed for her meeting with her mother. ———_ CHAPTER LXVI AZALINE AND EDWARD. Ir was past four o’clock in the afternoon ; and in the ground-floor parlour of the lodging-house where dwelt Hester Sergeant, Edward Walpole was now seated with Azaline Osborne. The young lady was attired in an elegant walking dress: she had on her bonnet—her gloves were upon her hands ; and from these circumstances the reader may rightly opine that she had not been long there, and that neither did she purpose that her visit should be of any considerable length. In fact, she had good-naturedly accompanied Lady Amesbury, and she was now tarrying a little while to ascertain how the meeting between the mother and daughter passed off in the room over- head, and to assure herself that her own services would not be needed in any respect by either of them. Edward Walpole remained at the house for precisely the same purpose; and thus were the two young people thrown together in the par- lour upon the ground floor. ‘The meeting must inevitably have proved,” said Azaline, diverging from other topics, ‘‘ one of the most pathetically interesting and affecting that can possibly be conceived.” “‘Ob, most interesting ! most affecting!” ex- claimed Walpole ardently. “T am quite curious to see this new-found daughter of my friend Lady Amesbury’s,” said Azaline. “I shall remain until I think that I may without indiscretion ascend to the room above, tap at the door, and request a few minutes’ admission.” “And you will see Hester, Miss Osborne ?” exclaimed Walpole. ‘Most assuredly. Why should I not ?”—and it was with almost an air of surprise that the beautiful Azaline gazed upon the young man. “You are the most liberal-minded and generous- hearted being,” he cried with fervour, ‘‘ that I ever encountered !” “ And you, sir,” she replied, with a smile, “ara the most inveterately disagreeable person that I ever encountered ; because you will insist on paying me compliments although you know how utterly distasteful they are.” “A thousand pardons, Miss Osborne!” ejacu- lated Walpole. ‘‘ But really it is impossible to behcld without emotion so much true magna- nimity on your part. You know,” he added, in a low tone and with hesitating manner, ‘‘ how this poor girl has proved erring and frai , “JT only know that she is a fellow-creature and that she has suffered. I call myself a Christian— and I feel bound to perform a Christian’s duties. Next to her own mother I will be the first to take her by the hand.” ‘‘Good heavens, Miss Osborne!” exclaimed Walpole, actually startled and thrilled in his en- thusiastic admiration of the noble-minded and generous-souled young lady; ‘such words coming from your lips bespeak you to be an angel !” “One of a very poor terrestrial mould, I am afraid,” she responded, with an ingenuous smile, which displayed the pearly treasures of her teeth. “‘ Not so!” rejoined Edward, enthusiastically ; “but so high above all other earthly beings whom I ever knew or dreamt of, that I could fall down and worship you !” “And if you choose to render yourself an idolater, Mr. Walpole,” responded Azaline, with another smile—one of those smiles, so frank and good-tempered, which seem most appropriate for such beauteouslips,— it does not by any means follow that I should consent to be set up as the idol of your worship.” “ But Oh, Miss Osborne! the worshipper asks not whether his idol will consent to receive his adoration! The incense of his homage ascends spontaneously, unchecked, unrestrained !” “Do you write poetry, Mr. Walpole?” in- quired Azaline, with a carelessness of air and in- difference of look which struck him for the in- stant as being the studied affectations of a coquette. “T do not pretend to be a poet, Miss Osborne,” he answered, humbly and meekly. “But if I were, would it not be cruel on your part to check the poetic enthusiasm ?” “On the contrary,” she interrupted him, half smiling, half seriously: ‘it would be the greatest possible benefit I could confer upon you. This is not a poetical age, Mr. Walpole ” “And yet methinks, Miss Osborne,” he an- swered, recovering courage, and speaking with a smile of sly significancy, ‘the age of poetry can scarcely be said to have passed when beautiful young ladies bend their longing eyes upon the Kast, as if in adoration of the rising sun—and indulge their imaginations with romantic dreams of a delicious existence in those climes—clad in the picturesque costume of the Orient, and seek- ing even to emulate the eccentric glories of the Queen of Tadmor!” Azaline blushed and smiled as she listened to this speech,—to which she rejoined, “I know, Mr. Walpole, that you are an excellent listener to conversations which you ought not to over- hear; and rest assured that 1 should have taken the. most serious offence at your conduct of last night, if it had not brought about a result which I hope will completely redound to the happiness of my friend Lady Amesbury and her daughter. For this reason your behaviour,” she continued, in a sort of serio-comic style, “‘ must be regarded as having been under the direction of some.-pre- ternatural influence; for otherwise it would be completely indefensible, and therefore unpardon- able.” ‘“‘T thank heaven, Miss Osborne,” replied Wal- pole, “that there should exist excuses which plead for me in your favour. I could not possibly have endured your displeasure——” “Enough of this style of language, Mr. Wal- pole,” interrupted Azaline. ‘‘ Must I over and over again remind you that I hate compliments and most of all those that are conveyed by im- plication or inference rather than in a direct manner. Pray talk rationally! You are not a simpleton—and I flatter myself I have some little common sense. You would think it a miserable COMO OSE YN Wn) Colin