Agnes: A Tale of the Streets — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

AGNES; OR, BRAUTY AND PLUBASURE. 427 © But you will sce Charles ?” * No, dear Apnes—not now. Indeed I first of nl] ascertained that J might be suro of finding you alone here before I came to pay you this present visit. Jarowell, my dear friond! In a few weeks you shall hoar from me ;.and then—and then shall J expect to see you with him who will then be your husband, at the retreat wherein I am about to seclude myself.” These last words were spoken with a tremulous- ness which displayed deep inward emotion; and tho Countess, folding Agnes to her bosom, mur- mured in accents that were still more bro en, * Karewell, sweet friend! farewell for the present! May all possiblo carthly happiness attend upon you: and rest assured that you will ever posses tue sisterly luve of her who now makes this invoca- tien !” Tho Countess di Milazzo then quickly disen- gaged herself from our heroine’s arms; and with soiao degree of abruptness she quitted the room. Agnes sat down upon the sofa, reflocting on all that had taken placo,—faneying that sbe could obtain a glimmering of what Lucia’s present in- tention was, but atill being very far from enter- taining any certainty on the subject. She had for the moment forgotten the box which had been left upon tho table, so absorbed was sho in the con- templation of the point to which we bave just al- luded. But presontly she recollected the memorial of friendship which Lucia had left behind her; and she glanced towards it. It was a handsome ox, made of cbony or some dark wood ; and it was inlaid with mother-of-pearl. It was scarcely so large as an ordinery work-box: i¢ was as long and wide perhaps, but not nearly so deep. Tho koy to fit tho lock was attached to a ribbon that was ticd around it. As Agnes contemplated tho hpx, a strange recollection gradually came back to her mind. The idea bocame moro vivid; and it suddenly made hor start—and then a serious, even eolomn expression settled upon her countenance. What was it thaé thus came back to the mind of the beautiful girl ?—what rominiscence of the past was it that thus affected bor? It was the dream of Floribel! Yea: nearly eighteon months had olapsed since Floribel—then still an inmate of Sydney Villa— bad depicted the dream to Agnes. And what was it that Floribel had boheld io the dream which was thus brought back to our heroine’s memory P “1 fancicd,” she said at tho time, “that you wero standing at the toilet-table, proparing to open a beautilul box, elaborately carved, and inlaid with mothor-of- pearl: it scemed to bo of ebony, and was about the size of a work-box.” It was thus that Fioribol had spoken at tho time; and Agnos was now struck by the recul- Jection—although there were several discrepancies between the details of Floribel’s vision and the present circumstances. For Agnes was not now standing at the toilet-table, to open the box—nor was it very claborately carved—nor was it of the preciso size of a work-box. “ And after all,” ejaculated Agncs to herself, at the expiration of a few minuton’ refloction, “it isa mere cvincidence!—for what is thero strango in a friend's presenting me with a casket that may cun- tain a gift suitable to the rank and circumstances of her who givos and her who receives ?” And yet Agnes hesitated to opon the box; far despite the train of reasoning through which her mind had just becn led—despite her lofty intelli. genco and her excellent good cense—there was a certain superstitious feeling connected with this box in its association with a portion of Floribel’s dream. Tho truth was that Agnes dreaded lest that portion of the dream should be actually realized, and that on opening tho box she should find it to contain a simple chaplet of flowers. For in this case Agnes would bo compelled to shudder at the idea thatthe other portion of Fivribel’s dream would likewise reccive its fulfilment,—the portion which regarded her own lost degraded | sclf,—-and that tho hideous skeleton grinuing up at her from the interior of @ coffin, might be garded as significant of a miserable tate bein, in storo for that wayward Floribel ! “At all events,” ejaculated Agnes, sooking to turn her ideas into another and icss dismal} channel, “ Tought only to open the box in tho presence of my doar father, of Charles, and his mother !”—and she forthwith sent to ascortain if those personages wore in the drawing-rvom belonging to the suite of apartments which they occupied at the hotel; for sho knew that her father and Charles had tem. | porarily gone oué ere now, to arrango some details in connexion with the approaching nuptials. Our heroine’s handmaiden returned with the intimation that Lord Ormsby, the Count of Came- rino, and Mrs. De Vere were all three in the draw- ing-room; so that thither Agnes at once proceoded, carrying the box in her hands. She hastened to relate everything which had occurred botween ber- eelf and the Countess di Milazzo ; and her racital was listened to with the utmost intcrest. At ita termination Lord Ormsby said, “ My dear girl, you may assuredly accept that testimonial of friend- ship and sisterly love, of whatsoever nature it may be.” “No doubt!” cjaculated Charles: and he also, as well as Agnes, fancied that he could form a glimmering idea of the natuto of tho seclusion into which tho Countess was on the point of re- tiring. “Porhaps,” thought Mrs. De Vore to hereclf, “this casket contains a splendid set of diamonds or some such appropriate gift for one who is about to becomo a bride P” The key was turned in the lock: but when the lid was raised, no diamonds sent forth their starry jots—no gems flashed forth their light. A simplo wreath of pearls, exquisitely fashioned into tho semblance of a chaplet of vumellias, first met the eye. Agnes started for a moment and turned palo, because lor first impression was that all thie por- tion of Floribel’s dream was now realised: but a second thought almost instantaneously reminded her that it was a simple wroath of flowers which was produced from the box of Floribel’s dream; whoress it was a chaplet of pearls that issued from tho real box that now stood upon the table. “Tt is very elegant—very appropriate!” said Charles, taking up the chaplet; ‘so pure—so chaste !” “Yos—it is vory beautiful,” said Mrs. De Vere: and yet sho could net belp thinking that it waa scarcely a gift rich and substantial enough for one of the Countess di Milazzo’s bigh station and great wealth GDoo S