Agnes: A Tale of the Streets — page 50: what you’re looking at

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424 shirty thousand pounds, and that therefore you would not staud in the way of any charitable in- tentions which at any time he might have har- boured.” “ Did he tell you all thie?” asked Cicely, ina hoarse voice. ‘“ No doubt of it, Mrs. Hardress! I am inca- puble of exaggerating a eingle syllable in tho pre- sence of such solemn—such awful circumstances as these.” “ And his property ?” said Cicely, exerting all her moral power to command her feelings of sus- pense and terror. What—what—has he done? howr—-It is for my poor dear aunt that I am interested ———"”’ “Ob, Mrs. Timperley is well cared for,” repliod Campbell. “ Twenty thousand pounds are to be ald in purchasing her an annuity, which at her time of life will be a very handsume ono. Then, as for you, Mre. Hardross " “Ah !? and Cicely’s heart leapt with reviving hope. “Twenty guincas to purchase some little me- morial of your uncle. Tor all this was dune, you must understand, as I thought, in anticipation of an adverse verdict at the time of trial, and not with the intention of almost immediate suicide. And as to the remaindor of your deceased uncle's fortune—which remainder consists of about thirty- five thousand pounds—it is to be divided between twelve hospitals and charitablo institutions ” “Oh, 1 must go and tell my, aunt this!” ex- claimed Cicely; and she burst from the room, leaving Mr. Campbell in a state of bewildering wouderment whether it were in disgust or joy that she had thus run off to communicato to Mrs. Timperley how her deceased husband had disposed of the bulk of his property. But Cicely did not go near her aunt: she tossed on her bonnet and shawl, and darted furth from the house. Jflinging herself into her carriage, she ordered it todrive home. There she locked herself in her boudoir, and for sevoral hours gave vent to her rage and disappointment, by meaus of passion- ate exclamations, restless pacings tu and fro, vehe- ment stampings of her feet upon tho floor, and thumpings of her clenched fists upun tho table. fer uncle had in his death avenged himself for the deception which she had practised upon him when she obtained her dowry! He had made uso of her as the means of procuring the instrument of self-destruction, and at the same timo cheated her with delusive promises, which were to be followed by the still more flagrant mockery of pretending that she had been so disinterested as to beg him to leave his property to hospitals instead of to herself! Ayo —and that paltry sum of twenty guineas, “‘that sho might purchaso something in memory of her uncle,”—this was a mockory likewiso! Some hours passed; and then thero was a knock at the door of the boudoir. Cicely composed her looks as well as she was able; she had not been crying—her’s was a rage too great for weeping— and thus there were no tears to wipe awey. As for her secluding herself in her boudoir, it seemed by no means unnatural to her domestics after the fearful suicide of her unclo. — “Lord Mendlesham has called, if you piease, ma'am,” said the female-servant who had knucked at the door. AGNEB; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. Cicely immediately repaired to the drawing: room, where she found her father-in-law; and as she fancied it was just possible he might put a particular question to her, she acted as if nothing were more remute frum her thoughts than such an idea; and she hastened to exclaim, “I hopo no evil tidings of her ladyahip ?” “ Wor ladysbip is bad cnough, Cicely,” responded Mendlesham: “but this is not tho business that brought me hither. <A frightful occurrenco has taken place ” “Alas, I know itwI know it! tho wretched man !” “Look at me, Cicély—look at me,” said the nobloman ; “and tell me that I was not made the means of conveying to your miserablo uncle the instrument of self-destruction !” This was the question which Cicely had in truth anticipated: but she instantaneously looked su amazed—so astuunded, thut Mendlesham was at once satisfied ; and cven before his daughter-in- law had time to answer a word, he caught her by the hand, saying, “ Pardon me, Cicely! I sce that I have wronged you. I am convinced. Let us drop the subject.—Permit me to ask whother you benefit by your unclo’s death ?” “No,” replied Mrs. Lardress; ‘and this cir- Cumstanco way serve to corroborate the assuranco that I at least had no complicity with my unclo’s suicide.” Lord Mcndlesham departed ; and that very same evening Ciccly set off to Dover, with the in- tention of immediately rejoining her husband in Brussels. On the following day Lady Mondles- ham, after appearing to rally for a fow hours, sank rapidly and expired in hor husband’s armas, CHAPTER LXXI. THE EBONY BOX, MAGNIFICENT suites of apartments, at tho prin- cipal hotel in Florence, were prepared for tho reception of Lord Ormsby and his daughter, the Hon, Miss Kvelyn—as woll as the Count of Camu- rino and his mother, Mrs. De Vere. They had a considerable retinue of attendants; for now that Lord Ormsby had openly assumed his patrician title, he deemed it proper that he should maintain an appearance consistent with his rank and wealth ; while, on the other hand, our hero was neccssarily compelled to follow the usages of that Italian State which had become as it were the country of his adoption. ‘There were valets for the two noblemen —~ lady’s-maids for Mrs. De Vere and Agnes—fvootmen, lacqucys, pages, and all the other menials who necessarily accompanied the half- dozen equipages which conveyed the patrician party and their suite. Their arrival in Florence created no ordinary sensation; fur the young Count of Camerino was regarded as the hero of a perfect romance, while rumour had proclaimed that the young lady whom he was about to lead to the altar was one of tho most beautiful creatures on whom the eyes had ever rested. Within an hour after he had alighted at the hotel, Charles sent an intimation to the Mi- nister of the Interior to annvunce his preseuce in S comicboae®