The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 295: what you’re looking at

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290 : THE MISTERIES oF LONDOLY. position, so different from what it ought to be. Yes~-and he thought, too, of one whom ho had loved so fondly—on ! so fondly, that his passion was a worship—an idolatry, and whose image was in- delibly impressed upon his soul. Time had taught him the necessity of resignation to a lot which he could not alter—a fate which he could not change— a destiny which he could not subdue: and though that same resignation, aided by the faith of a sincere Christian and a firm reliance on Iim who disposcth of all things, had deprived his anguish of its sting and blunted the iron that had entered into his soul— there were, nevertheless, moments when the cloud camo orcr the handsome countenance, and the sol- dicr’s heart swelled almost to bursting. And this was now the stato of his mind as he passed along the fashionablo quarter of that metropolis where ho had arrived with his regimont only the evening before. Ho had no particular aim in view—he was not on his way to see any friends: the only being on the face of the earth in whom ho felt interested, was ske whom he had once loved so devotedly—whom he still loved with the mellowed and almost embit- tered affection of disappointment—and whom he dared not inquiro after, much less venturo to visit. His return to the capital had unsottled him: ho felt no inclination to remain in the barracks and pursue his favourite recroation of reading—and ho had therefore walked abroad in tho hope of diverting his mind from the unpleasant thoughts that in- truded upon it. The handsomo dragoon had just entorod tho arcade of the Quadrant, when he was suddenly struck as if by paralysis—or as it were with o vio- lent blow dealt by an invisible hand: he stopped short—then staggered back a few paces—and leant ngainst one of tho pillars for support,—his coun- tenance the while denoting the most intenso emo- tions. Jor, issuing from a shop, were two persons both of whom he instantancously recognised, but on one of whom his eyes became rivetted as if by enchantment. Yes:—thero was Elien—the Ellon whom he had loved—whom he still Joved—lean- ing on the arm of her old husband—that man who had robbed kim—Leonard Mitchell—of tho object of such a fervent and undying affection! But neither the lady herself nor Mr. Gamble observed the young soldicr: for, on issuing from tho shop, they passed down tho Quadrant; and thus their backs were almost immediately turned upon him. Recovering his presence of mind, and passing his hand hastily across his brow, as if to tear away a mist that hung upon his eyes, Leonard Mitchell— for he indeed was the handsome young dragoon— was already pushing his way amidst the crowd and hurrying after Ejlen, when tho thought flashed, liko blasting lightning, to his soul, that she was an ele- gantly dressed lady, leaning on the arm of a hus- band who was cvidently a gentleman of substance— and he was acommon soldier! Oh! never—never were the accursed class-distinctions of an artificial grate of socicty felt so bitterly as on the present ocexsion. Not that Leonard mistrusted Ellen’s heart—not that he feared of experiencing a cold reception from one of her generous nature: buta sense of propriety—a deep conviction of what was due, under circumstances, to herself and-her hus- band, caused him suddenly to stop short; then, in obedience to the new impulso which was received from this revulsion of his feelings, he turned abruptly from the Quadrant into one of those mm res Om a TNE A a lr ere eR EOS A I I ce pe A ag ye ee tr streets that stretch towards the district of Golden Square, Walking on, like one intoxicated, and with oyes that saw nothing—as if all the powers of vision, physical and mental, were absorbed in the necessity of internal contemplation—the young man felt as if he were going mad. There was a fearful hurry in his brain; and vet, palpable and distinct, as it were, in his heart was the imago that for years had been there, but each feature—each Hinoament of which had suddenly received the most vivid colourings of revival. Sho was beautiful as ever—more beautiful, if possible, in the glory of her womanhood; and, although hor countenance was somewhat pale and had a melancholy—yes, a very melancholy expres- sion—this only added to hor charms, in his estima- tion, by rendering her the more interesting. By degrees, bis thoughts grew more settled—the whirl- wind that raged in his brain, abated in violence; and suddenly there sprang up in his soul a feeling ef pleasure at the idea that her features wore that shade of mournfulness, For, oh! there could be no doubt as to the cause: she was unhappy—unhappy on account of him! Sho had not, then, forgotten him—sho remembered their youthful loves: perhaps he was still dedr to her? That thonght became more delightful, as it seemed more consistent with probability; and now fhe was not altogether so tho- roughly devoid of hope—so profoundly a prey to black despair, as he lind been a few minutes pre- viously. Uopo, indeed! what could he hope? Ha knew not—he did not immediately pause to ask himself the question: but he abandoned himself to tho delicious reverie into which tho altered current of his thoughts thus madly hurried him. When be awoke, as it were, from this day-dream, he was astonished to find that it had lagted so long, and without interruption: for, while wrapped up in that vision, ho had threaded many streots—acconr- plished a considerable distance—and was now ciose to tho toll-gate of Waterloo Bridge. Entering upon that mighty viaduct, he seated himself in one of the recesses, and again gave way to the meditations which the incident of tho afternoon had conjured up. But how was it tlmt Leonard Mitchell had taken the direction of Waterloo Bridge, in that specios of somnambulism under which ho had been labouring? Because it was the way to Stamford Street; and, in his walking reverie, an irresistible impulse had influenced his footsteps, even while he appcared to be proceeding at random, And what now was tho nature of his reflections? He experienced an ar- dent longing to cross the bridge—to enter Stamford Street—and to behold once more the houso whiere all his carly years were passed: yes—and to behold also the dwelling of her whom he loved! But did he know that Mr. and Mrs, Gamble still resided in Stamford Street? IIe was completely ignorant on the subject; and an ardent curiosity impelled him to clear up the point in question, Still he }si- tated: amidst all the feclings by which he was now animated, and the longings by which he was prompted, a sense of duty rose upin his mind,—of duty towards her whom he loved,—towards her husband—and towards himself. Why should he incur the risk of meeting her, and perhaps unsett- ling her studied attempts at unmixed devotion to him whose name she bore P—-why should he do aught that might arouse the suspicion or excite the jealousy of the old man who doubtless treasured hig (SO) GIOOKS (SO)