The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 5 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

‘sm oy e -s » * - - = -s "—_— = ae ee EEERPRG A -te- 2 oe WSS 8 a -——w on ow this ; and the longer I think of it, the moro irre- sistibly am I led towarde the conviction that William is true to me, and that Lady Saxondalo has either been pric vously mistaken or guilty of a wilful sis. reprysentation.” Inspired by these thoughts, and ‘chocred with tho fervid hopo that they would soon recoive the fullest confirmation, Florina pursued her way in the dirct- tion of the-presty little villa where William Doveril dwelt. For during their conversation on the pre- eoding day ho hat infurmed her of the place of his private abode; and ag she was well acquainted with ‘all the onvivuns of the fashionable neighbourhood of the Regent's Park, ahe had no difficulty in finding hor way to the youny artist’s dwelling. It was a swuall but ngat and genteel residence, situated ina somewhat secluded spot, beyond the boundary of the Regent's Park, and presenting a very picturesque appearance. As she camo in sight of the villa, Florina felt her heart beat with quick- ening palpitations; and on reaching the iron rail- ings which enclosed the front girden, she was again scized with an access of hesitatioA and uncertainty whether to prodeed. But sho had came thus far— she had reached the place of destination—sho had epassed through the loneliness of the Park—and should she stow retreat at tho very last moment ?P purposo? No: hor mind was speedily made u again: she opened the garden gate, and threading tho gravel-walk which was ombowered in cvergreens she advanced up tothe frontdoor. It stood open— fur the evening was close end sultty: a lamp burnt in the hall, but there were no lights in tho front- parlour on the ground floor. The casemontof this room was open, and voices issuing from within, reached Fiorina’s cars. One of those voices was Doveril’s--the other was that of a femalo; and the very first sounds which the young lady caught struck her ds laden with acconts of tenderness and en- dearment. A sickening sensation suiged unon her—~the demon of jealousy again raised*its voico in the depths of her soul—she felt as if she wore standing on the. threshold of a revelation that was to bring a blight upon her heart. Trans{ized to the spot, she stood— unable to litt her hand to touch the bell or the knocker of the dour—unable also to advance a step to pass thal. open portal—unablo likewise to make known her presonce in any shape or way. Sho was*thus de- Instinctively did she listen: she could not holp it, no mattér what ayiount of impropriety character- ized her conduct-+-no matter how indiscreet a part sho was playing. Of allthis she thought not:—it eteuck her not that she was doing wrong—indeed sho was incapable of scrious,or deliberate reflection of any kind, ‘Those soufids of voices which she had caught had struck her, we said, as being laden with an unmistakable tendernega: but the words thom. selves pad not reached ber cars. Now she'listenod with suspended broath to catch what was being said, as if hor whole life’a happiness or misery do- pended upon the result. “Bat, my dearest William,” murmured the female voice which she bad already hoard, ‘and whose toncs were of silvery softness; “ you must tell me what has occurred, for you know how sinoorcly I lovo you.’ A Ta TIRES: aI Ta CT aE, Ce) a ® Gag Ga ce Ge, SER Ge Cs oe ee: DIES gotten. | Eo emer = * a =» e a @ ee Se a eehsde. fhe detent WE... ial caz should sho trem@lc at tho accomplishment of her prived of the power either to advance or rotreat.. SEES On Re ee - es wre a-'™e~.* + een we eS we ee ake epee Ee ee ee) 2 Pee 8 Oe, eee uz MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. 7 « Wheroforo,""—and it was now tho voicn of Deveril that was speaking—“ whorofore will you thes insist that I am dull and melancholy in . “Oh! because, my beloved William——”,and the rémainder of the sentence was broathed in so low a ton? that. the sonse of the words was lost to the listening Florina. “My sweot girl, do not shed tears on my ex count,” said #evoril, in the most soothing and en- dearing accents. “Come, I¢must not sco you mourntul and melancholy like this. While we have boon sitting in coversation here the darkness jas gathered around us—the twilight has gono—dusk has succceded. Shall we ring for lights, or ramble. in the garden for half-an-hour ?” Whichover you please, dear William,” responded that soft and silvery fomale voice. “Oh! how your brows throb! There, lot me,push back your na dear William, from over your furchead. Ah! I am sure that you have experionced annoyances this day. Your hand is hot and fevorish. Let mo kiss your cheek. Ah! that is burning too! Como, dear Wil- liam—we will walk in tho garden a IRtle, fur tho air in this room is hot ang stilling.” All this whilé Florina was still transfixed to tho spot, a proy to the most torturing sensations. Who could this fumale be? That she was young, tho silver melody of her voico sufficiontly proved: that #ho was beautiful, Florina’s jealousy naturally promptod. But, ab! a sudden hope flasifid to tho young lady’s mind. Might not this feinale be Deveril’s sister? And yot no: for he had never spoken of a sister—and if he possessed ono, surely he would have alluded to her in tho long and familiar conversation which he and Florina had held on the previous dity? No, no—she could not be his sigter | Then who was sho? Oh! for a jealous heart to ask itsclf that question, what pos- sible answer could be returned ? what responso could the fdvered imagination suggest? TI hepo which had sprung up an instant back was anni- bituted immediately —~almost as soon a3 it was formed; and poor Florina felt as if she must screaia out in frenay,-or sink ‘down in sonselessness. But they were coming forth to walk im tho gar- den—William Deveril and his female companion. Florina must retreat—she must vanish from the scene where She felt convinecd that she had a rival in the young artist’s love. Buf, ah! her feet aro atill nailed to the spot—sho could not stir—it wis a terrible crisis in her thoughts and sensations—ani * if her very life depended upon it, sho could riot at that instant have moved.alimb. Suddenly the parlour- = —- . a ee = = = 22 = oo [on DP a ee ee ee eee el B q door opened, and Deveril came forth with his — fomalo companion’ into ‘tho hall. thrown round her waist, and her fair hand lay lov- ingly upon his shoulder. But, heavens! who was | the beauteous creature that thus, half-lockod ip William Deveril's.fond embrace, met the view of the dismayed and anguished Florina? It was Angela Vivaldi, the Opera-dancer ! A wild cry thrilled from Florina’s lips—the spell which had retained hor transfixed statue-liko to the spot, was suddenly lifted—and as if seisod with a mortal terror, she fled precipitately. “Who is it? what does this moan?” exclaimed Deveril, as he‘rushed forward in pursuit of Florina, whom he,had not recognized, bucause sho was veiled, and because also the glimpse he had caught of her His arm woe : ene LOAO© (C©) SS (CO)