The Young Duchess; or, Memoirs of a Lady of Quality — page 379: what you’re looking at

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

THE YOUNG DUCHESS; OR, MEMOIRS OF A LADY OF QUALITY. 365 the best feelings and sweetest sentiments of her soul. Indescribably beautiful she still was: but, Oh! how changed under the goading sense of the terrific and irreparable injury which she had re- ceived! The whole world appeared to her in a new and different light. She had been wont to look upon it through the mirror of her own inno- cence: she now regarded it as it were through a glass darkly. She had well-nigh lost all her faith in human nature. She—naturally so pure, so good, so kind, and so generous—to have been visited by such a calamity —it almost made her doubt the jus- tice of heaven itself! And thus the change that had taken place in her mind, had necessarily produced its influence upon her countenance. If she smiled now, it was no longer with an expression of un- alloyed sweetness upon her lips: but there was a sad commingling of bitterness. Her looks no longer beamed with the soft satisfaction of an in- nocent and contented heart: there was some- thing in her regards that would have seemed singular and unaccountable indeed to a stranger —and the compassionating individual would have turned in surprise and sorrow to look again at the young creature who was so beautiful and yet so unhappy ! Such was the unfortunate being who now knelt at the feet of Stephen Ashborne, — her chesnut hair flowing wildly over her shoulders—her pale anguished countenance upturned towards his own —her hands clasped—and the accents of her ap- pealing voice vibrating all tremulous yet rending in his ears. A deadly pallor seized upon Ash- borne’s cheeks : he recoiled likewise for a moment, as if smitten with a remorseful sense of his deep guilt; and then he shaded his eyes with his hat. He could not bear to look upon the lovely creature whom he had destroyed vengeance against the father was at the moment forgotten in the illimi- table compassion and sympathy which he expe- rienced for the daughter ! “You will grant my prayer!” cried Pamela, now seizing one of the young man’s hands and holding it forcibly in both her own. ‘‘ Answer me a question,” he said, in a deep hoarse voice. ‘‘ Tell me — have you overheard anything that has just now passed betwixt your father and myself?” ‘‘No,” answered Pamela. “I scarcely know why you ask me —but I tell you the truth. Throughout my life I have been accustomed to tell the truth; and on no account will 1 give utterance to a falsehood. I knew that you were here—I thought the interview a long one—I was full of suspense—Oh, a suspense so painful !—and so I approached the door to listen to what was passing; and then my ear caught the few last words which you said.” As Stephen Ashborne glanced towards Mr. Ponsford, he saw that this gentleman suddenly experienced an immense relief on finding that his daughter still remained ignorant of those facts which he would have little liked to come to her knowledge. “Rise, Pamela,” said Stephen Ashborne; ‘and answer me yet another question !” The unfortunate creature rose from her suppliant posture; and as she now met Ashborne’s pitying and mournful look fixed upon her, a burning blush suffused itself over her countenance: but the next instant she once more became pale as death. Her violet eyes were bent downward: and as she stood there, the very personification of Beauty in dis- tress, Stephen Ashborne asked himself how he could ever have been such a miscreant as to carry his vengeance to such a length, and with a false notion of retributive justice crush the purest and loveliest flower that ever bloomed in this world? ‘‘Miss Ponsford,” he asked in a voice that was deeper and hoarser than before, and which indi- cated 2 powerful concentration of feelings, ‘tell me deliberately and calmly from your own lips— do you desire that I should lead you to the altar ?” ‘“‘T have knelt at your feet,” she responded, in a faint and almost dying tone, “to implore that you will give me a name instead of that which is now sullied.” ‘“‘ But Iam only an obscure and humble indi- vidual . “And I,” she interjected, with a look of direst woe; “how lowly am I fallen in my own esti- mation !” “But you must hate and detest the very sight of me!” pursued Stephen, now speaking with vehemence; ‘you must look upon me as the most abominable of miscreants—the most loathsome of reptiles—the most hideous of monsters !” “Cannot you understand,” asked Pamela, with a look and voice of mingled reproachfulness and entreaty, “that this interview is a painful one ?” “Yes!” ejaculated Ashborne; ‘‘ and I ought not to prolong it! But before I say the parting word, let me put one more question, Miss Pons- ford Let me ask whether you really look upon me as a villain of the blackest die ?” “Oh, my God!” cried the miserable girl, literally wringing her hands, and quivering from head to foot as she spoke ; “ he is dragging me purposely through an ordeal of questionings !—he is wilfully and wantonly goading my soul to madness!- Ste- phen Ashborne, if there were ever a single moment when from what my father has told me, I could have fancied that you were perhaps less guilty towards me than I might otherwise have deemed you,—you are now pursuing a course of cold- blooded and refined cruelty which is going far towards making me think the very worst of you! Oh, if you have yet one single remaining spark of honour or generosity ——” ‘““Enough, Miss Ponsford !” interrupted Ash- borne. ‘I only wished to satisfy myself that your father had really told you something which may have the effect of rendering me less odious in your eyes !” “T have told you that I love truth,” said Pamela ; “and every word which flows from my lips is hallowed by the sincerity of the heart. Be- lieve me, therefore, when I declare unto you that my father has done you this justice,—that with- out entering into particulars (and heaven knows I do not require them!) he has given me to understand that he is far from being without a fault towards your kith and kindred—and that you might well smart under the sense of keen and poignant wrongs! And now, in heaven's name, let this interview end!” “Tt shall, Pamela,” interjected Ashborne. ‘TI would go down upon my knees and implore your pardon, were it not that my vengeance would cease to be vengeance if I expressed contrition oO COMO —_— phys it Sh SS SSS sss SS Colin