The Mysteries of the Court of London Vol. 4 — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

earl ier. up Ol ieee ; OSs ew ow ee gees ee, 5 ee Te TINK MYSTERIES OF THE cousgr. : our agreement, some weuths avo, that all senti- mental allusions and»maudlin professions of love, should cease betweef us: aud, ihdegd, it would have been a mockery had we nut resolyed on such a coarse. Yes—a veritable mockery in the pre- sence of the compact which gilows each such ua- limited license! But ata moment when your life is threatened, I may be permitted tu ubserve that notwithstanding all that has taken place dad all that é taking place, I still experience for you those feelings which will not permit me to hear with indifference of the ddnger which ygu are is- carring. ludeed, I caunot bear the thought !” “My dear Venetia, you will almost drive me mad,” exclaimed Horace, “ if you talk thus. You kuow full well that at the outset I loved you fondly—lovyed you mudly—and i: a few short mouths this affection has not been extirpated from my heart! No: and notwithatanding I have pluaged into dissipations—notwithatanding I nave been se- duced into this intrigue, the seovat of which has now sv suddenly exploded—yet is there still a niohe within my soul where your image is enshrined. The artificialities with which ranks and wealth havo surrounded us, have uot deatroyad all #atura) feel~ mvs within me. Besides, you know, Venetia— you can believe me whet I declare—that I shout! have been happier had we on the day of our mar- ringe retired tou some humble and sevluded cottage, rather than have plunged into the grillianvies, the elegancies, and the luxuries of a Courtlifel But having been compelled as it were to accept this ‘latter destiuy, 1¢ wis, Better to yield to the furee of the torrent and give way to all pleasures and pro- fligacies, if only fur the sake of drowning regretful or remorseful thoughts” “ Ahl mg dear Horace,” sald Venetia, gently a a a ne passing one of her arms round his neck and drawing him towards her ;—‘“ this ia one of those scenes of tenderness which a husband and wife in vur condition ought to avoid, and which never- | theless has jts svothing isfluences—ites eostacies | of pleasing pain—its paroxysins of torturing btiss! | Yes, dear Horace, though shame be upon either | brow—though when. inspired by the best feelings | | of our natare, we dare not look each other in the face—and though noW, as your cheek is plilowed azsainst mine, each ove burns with the flush of shaine—nevertheless we are not indifferent to cach other; aad to me the thought is harfowiyg that in a few short hours thine handsume furm may beooine rigid—thine eyes clofied in the sleep of death! No, no—this dusl must not ba!” she added with passionate vehemenea’, “But my honoyr wl be compromised,” said Horace. “Cardidly speaking, Venetia, I am no coward—I do not shiink from death: and were I conipelled to go forth with an army to battle, it would be in the foremost rauks I vheuld be found. But { freely coufess that, it is hard—yen, it is Hard ee on eee ee a OF? = pe meeGe_ OS le eee f in her mind. = ae = emww-es —_ = = —- e this dyel! And then, Curzon tio,” he added, “is a inatch'ess shot—so experienced with the pistol ray a’ ___" ® * On} your words freeze the blood in iy veins,” eried Venctia, shaddermy froin heal tu toot. “ Na, no, my dear Horace—this duel must not take place !” | “Ah! vainly do you talk, my poor Venett:,” | gaid her husband: “for on the one hand the | wretched code of honour will egmpel Lord Curzon | to send me a c'allenge, and on the other will force | me to accept it.” | “Aud this is because he discovered you with hia wife?” said Venetia in a musing gone, as she gazed abstractedly upon her hysband : fir itseemed | ai if some Bhought or scheme Was now develuping | “ Yes—that is the plain Eaglish of the matter,” | replied Horace. | * Ab! IT understand,” cjaculated Venetia: then | as her eyes euddenly assumed another and peculiir | expression, fraught with a deep and myster.ous | meaning, she said, “Do you remember, Morse, that on the first occasion you ever required munvy —it ig now some Mouths azo —you said that you cousul.ed me, knowing that 1 was a wamun fertie in expedients ?” > “T remember it perfectly,” returned her hus- | band; “and I mizht reiterate the averment now. | But what has that to du with the present position of affairs? Believe we, wy dear Veneta, there | are no mang of staving off the present dauser: ft must be encountered buldly—although, to confexs the truth,” he aided in a mournful tone, “1 expe. ri-nee terrible wisgivings amouutiug tu a presen- | timent as to the result!” | “Then I beseech you, Horaca, to put faith in | my ingenuity !” exclaimed Venetia, with the air of ; one who already has resalved upon some setrled | plan of action. | “ But remember, my dearest wife,’’ sail Horace, | * thas anything you mightalo in this matier would be to compromise my honour most seriously, be- | canse the challenze must be uccepfed—” “ Now, leave it all to mo,” interrupted Venetia, . with one of hiy sweetest yuniles ascompanying 3 look of confideuge and encouragement, “ But 1 anf about to give you an iustruction which you must obey to the yery letter——” * Pruceed,” raid Horace, wondering what possible | gcheme his wife could sp suddenly have devisu:, but still experiencing sufficient futh in her pra- dence, tact, and kuowledge of the world, to feel | assured that in whatsoever she might do she would not comprymise his honour in respect to this duel | which appeared inevitable. . oe ) “ Return you to Captgin Tash, aad reaiain with | him until you receive a message Tram mop,” said | Venetia: * then, sp coon as Jesdina gepairs-to you with the intimation that I wish te sea:you, do you —to stand the ctignce of bélng thus c in my | come straight hither and anger the at ouce | earliest prime,—when rank, honours, aud wealth |—without hesitation—and wifeous the eeremony | have only just begun to lavish thelr favours apon } of knocking at the door.” | me! Resides, Venetia, of the two courses which are opeu to every man in this life—nomely, the good and the bad—I hava chosén the latter; ‘and for 4bia sacrifice of all my ettermost fepliigs, the Horace was aboot.to, inquires an explanation | relative to this extysondinaty inutruction: but ; Venetia good humovredly’ oué short all facther ! diacourse, and compelled ‘hiag 40 quit the roow. A few minutes afier béy bhasband had thus left | | | 7 the boudeir, Lady Setkville rang the bell; and euly compensation can he’ found on @ long life when Jessica anewered the summons, slie said pleasure ‘and enjoyotedt, These are tie ‘reasons whith almost rénder me a ‘coward when I thidk of — ® wos ens ' aalee Cette wopuhyppetiiagrenth = a a i) {eda uae anges we wpe, mene ANICOOOKS OY (CO CO