Agnes Vol. 2 — page 249: what you’re looking at

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

242 AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE, no !—even though she should discard me, I will yet) culated Mrs. De Vere. “I was so uneasy that | love and worship her; because I shall have the! could not keep away any longer!” - conviction that for some unknown reason she rust | “Well, dear mother,” said Charles, “we wil: bo right——althoughb, my God! it will be death to discuss all this presently. You see that I havo s me ! gentleman with me.” The unhappy young man pressed his hand Mrs. Je Vere abruptly withdrow her arms from wildly to his brow; and a deep convulsing sob about her son’s neck; and she turned towards the smote upon the ear of Lord Ormaby. | visitor, whose presence she had not before noticed. “ If,” oried Charles, “my faul¢ has been that I, Then a sudden and pecutiar expression flitted over have loved her too devotedly and too well—ifit her countenance—an ejaculation at the same time be a subject of reproach that in the fervour of my burst from the nobleman’s lips—it was echoed by enthusiastic passion I have placed her image upon one from those of the lady, for tho recognition was a pedestal and made it the object of my idolatrous now mutual and complete ! worship, 8o that God himeelf is angered against = Good God! is it possible ?” was now the wild mce—if on account of my readiness to lay down my ( exclamation that thrilled from Mrs. De Vero’s life for Agnes’ sake, so that not @ single hair of | tongue. “Can the dead become alive, and aro her head should be injured,—if for all these the lost thus to be found ? Yes, yes! it is no do- reasons I am to be discarded and cast off, then lusion ! heaven knows that they are potent enough! 1 Lord Ormsby was staggered ; and fur a mo- ment he felt an illimitable compassion stealing in upon his soul on behalf of this young man whose looks were caloulated to inspire so deep an interest, and whose language was fraught with so much apparent sincerity. But then—like a blight upon the choicest flowers of the garden—like a frost upon the tender blossoms of the trees—came the withering recolloction of all the statements he had heard from the lipa alike of Mrs. Iardress and Catrina Petroro. It was therefore with a mourn- ful shake of the head that Lord Ormsby said, “ Nothing can change the resolve which is taken. Everything is at an end between Agnes and your- self !’? Ife was turning towards the door, when Charles exclaimed, ‘‘One word more, sir! one word more! only one word !” Ormsby stopped; and just at that moment tho door opened. A waiter entered; and said, ad- dressing himsclf to De Vere, “If you please, siguor, to pardon this intrusion: but your, mother—- —”’ ‘“My mother?” cjaculated our hero, of my mother?” “Bho is hore, signor. The lady has just arrived —I told her that you had somo one with you—she would not thorefure immediately come——”’ ‘My mother hore!” cried Charles. ‘Oh, let! mo hasten to her! What ow are Morton Evelyn !” “And you, a,” cried Lord Ormsby, “ are Lucy Maitland !” CHAPTER XLT. ORMSLY AND MUS. DE VERE. Waar ‘ stupondous revelation was this for Charles De Vere!—we moan the revelation of the fact that the individual whom he beheld before bim was Morton Evelyn ; for he knew tlint this was the name of the father of his beloved Agnes,—that father who had so long beon looked upon as dead! Yes—hoer father! And, Ob! Charles was now no longer at a loss tu corupre: Ihend the right by which this porsenago pro- claimed everything to be at an ond betwixt him |and Agnes!—but though the source of the power aud authority thus to act was no longer a mys: tery to our hero, be was still as much in the | dark as ever to conjecture the grounds upon which ‘that decision so fatal th his happiness had boen arrived at. As for Lord Ormsby himself, he had for the mo: ment forgotten the presence of Charies in the sudden surprise which smote him on recognising Mrs. Do Vere; and guarded and cautious thougl he habitually was, yot in the excitement of the in- But Ah!” he ejaculated, , stant be would have ejaculated that name ot Lucy catching sight of Ormsby, whose presence for the | Maitland all the samc, oven though death or dis- moment he had forgotten: “will you answer me | one question, sir?” and now he spoke in Diglish | again, so that the waiter should not understand him. “Tell me who you are, that you have thus had the power of wielding so torrible an in- fluence over my happiness—aye, over my entire destiny !” The waiter, judging by the vehemence with which Charles spoke, that it would be discreet for him to withdraw, opened the door to retire. Mrs. De Vere was already in the ante-room; and the instant the door opened she rushed into the inner apartment. “Charles! my dearest boy Charles!” she cried, flinging her arms about his neck and straining bim to her bosom; “how uneasy have you made me! This prolonged absence———” “Mother !—<dear mother !” wrote to tell you the cause “Then your letters must have miscarried !” eja- he oxclaimed; “J 33 ‘honour might have been the result to the lady ber- self! “‘'Yes—I am Morton Evelyn,” he said; “‘ and if may indeed appear unto you as if tho lost were being found—as if the grave were giving up its dead—and as if the perished and the deceased were being resuscitated ! And perhaps never, nevoi should I have proclaimed myself to the world, o1 returned again amidst tho busy haunts of man were it not that circumstances have marvellously altered with me, and I am in reality that whict twenty years ago I only for a brief space tanciec myself to be !” A sudden light appeared to flash in unto the brain of Charles De Vere; and he ejaculatod “ Oh, now [ understand it all! You are ennobles and you are rich—you are Lord Ormsby in trutt and reality—and it is for this reason thaé you! lordship has forbidden me to aspire to tho hand o your daughter !” NOO <S