The Mysteries of London, Vol. IV — page 376: what you’re looking at

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me a ee 8 ee THE MYSTERIZCS OF LONDON. experience for my beloved daughter, are all induce- mente and reasons whereforo I should at once com- municate to you all my plans,” She again paused for a fow moments, and then continued in the following manner :— “The dearest hope of my life was accomplished on that day when my darling Agnes was restored to me: and since we have together occupied this se- cluded but delightful spot, I have had Icisure to reflect upon those duties which I owe tomy daughter, Moreover, I have well weighed all the circumstances of her position and my own; and I cannot blind my eyes to the fact that a great sacrifice must be made on my part to her reputation—her welfare—her purity of soul.” “T begin to understand you now, my dear friend,” said Lord William Trevelyan, his countenanrce light- ing up with the animation of joy: for he felt assured that he had not formed a wrong estimate of Mrs. Sefton’s character, whon ho attributed to her tho most amiable qualifications and oxcellent principles, in spite of her conncxion with Sir Gilbert Heath- cote, “Oh! conld you suspect even for an instant that I should permit my own selfish passion to triumph over my affection for that dear daughter who has been so miraculously restored to me?” exclaimed Mrs. Sefton. “No, my lord—no, my esteemed friend—TI am not a woman of such a despicable de- scription! Not an hour has elapsed since, in this very room, I said to Sir Gilbert Heathcote, ‘ We inust separate, my well-beloved—and perhaps for a long, long time—tf not for ever” He understood me —lic appreciated my mi tives; and be scarcely sought to reason against my resolution—But, ob! this yielding—this assent on his part, was all the more genecrous—all the more praiseworthy—all the more noble!” cried Mrs. Sefton, in enthusiastic admiration of the absent baronet’s character: “for I must no longer keep the fact a secret from you, my dear friend—although I blush to acknowledge it———But you will not think the worse of Agnes on account of her mother’s crime ” “Heaven forbid that I should be so unjust!” ejaculated Trevelyan, in an impassioned tono of profound sincerity. “Thanks for that assurance—a thousand thanks!” exclaimed Mrs, Sefton. ‘ Yes—she indeed is pure and virtuous; and I would sooner perish by my cwn hand than present to her an example of demo- ralisation in my own conduct, And itis this same sentiment that animates Sir Gilbert Heathcote— that has induced him to sacrifice all his own happi- noss to her welfare—so that sho may never havo to think ill of her mother? And now, my dear friend, you can probably conjecture the truth which my lips scarcely dare frame ?—~you can perhaps divine wherofore Sir Gilbert Heatheote is so deeply—so profoundly interested in tho welfaro of Agnes ?” “Yes—I comprehend it all!” cried Trevelyan. “ And now you must look upon me with loathing ~—with abhorrence,” murmured Mrs. Sefton, bury- ing her countenance in hor hands: “you must despise and contemn tho adulterous woman who allowed her husband to oxist in the belief that another’s child was his own !” “No—no, my dear madam,” éxclaimed the young nobleman; “TI entertain no such feelings towards you. Fam acquainted with all your history—yes, al}——” “ All!” she repeated, in a tone of surprise: tkon, 371 suddenly recollecting herself, she said, “Oh! true —Sir Gilbert told me that my husband was to call upon you this morning; and his lordship has there- fore given you Ais version of our marriage-history.” “‘¥ndeed, my dear friend,” returned Trevolyan, ‘ho not only corroborated every thing you had already made known to me, but gave me so many additional details, all speaking in your favour—or at least in extenuation “Tam glad that the Marquis does meso much justice,” interrupted Mrs. Sefton: “ heaven knows that I wish him all possible happiness! And that he has endearoured to obliterate all recolleetion of me from his mind, I am well aware; and in the arms of his mistresses he has sought relief from any sense of injury or wrong that ho may have expe- rienced. JI do not mention this fact for the base and unworthy purpose of disparaging the man whom I know that I Aave injured: but it is in justice to myself——” “Ah! my dear lady, let us turn away from this topic as soon as possible,” interrupted Trevelyan, Cheerful. y—most cheerfully !” ejaculated Mrs, Sefton. “Wo will speak of Agnes—and of the ro- solutions which a sense of duty towards hor has engendered on the part of Sir Gilbert and mysolf, Thus stand all our relative positions :—Should Sir Gilbert Heathcote become a frequent visitor at this house, the tongue of scandal would soon find food for its morbid appetite in this neighbourhood; and the discredit into which I should fall—the oppro- brium heaped upon me, would be roflected upon my innocent daughter. That is ono grave and important consideration. Another is that, even if the former did not exist, or if Sir Gilbert merely called occasionally in the light of a friend, it would be impossible, situated as wo are, to avoid little familiarities or marks of affection, which would inevitably appear strange and extraordinary to Agnes, and by degrees shock her pure mind. Lastly, your lordship has honoured her with your attachment—you have demanded of me her hand in marriage when the suitable time shall arrive ;— and in the interval the guardianship of the treasure which is to become your own, rests with me. I must fulfil that trust in a manner that will give you no cause to blush for the wife whom you will have to introduce to the world. It is known in some few quarters already—it may become gene- rally known eventually, that the Marquis and Marchioness of Delmour have long ceased to dwell together: but the actual cause of this separation has never transpired, and need not. Thus, hitherto, nothing has occurred to reflect dishonour upon the name of Lady Agnes; and it behoves alike her mother, and him who is her real father, to pursue such 2 line of conduct as may be most suitable to the welfare, happiness, and peace of that beloved child.” *T thank you—most cordially, most sincerely do I thank you,” exclaimed Lord William Trevelyan, “for .11 the resolutions you have adopted, and all the assurantcs you have now given me! Yes—I am indeed interested in the welfare of your charme ing daughter; and the generous sacrifices which yourself and Sir Gilbert have decided upon making, for hor benefit, prove how noble are your hearts!” “Nay—now you compliment us too highly,” said Mrs. Sefton, with a smile. “We have determined upon performing our duty;—and if, by so doing,” she continued, in a more sorious strain, “I can con- (C(O) (C DOO <S LL (SO)