The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 5 — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

"| to whom the best and brightest exainplé should a {- speaking,—“ if you dare attribute such conduct to “MB rthy address. Hoe saw that notwithstanding hor , \ $n MYtTHKIES OF THE COURT. 155 always borne in the presence of the world an un- | beso. He is not without frionds: at all events he tainted reputation, falls in love with a young’ man, | hasonoin me. And I now warn your ladyship that much her inferior ih what dociety bas chosen to | the tribunals shall be appealcd to—an action for de- denominite rank. She is too much a elave to the | famation. of: character shell be commencod againat a re . artificialitios and fiétions of this same sockty to | you——". | think of marrying the young man: but sho bas so « Enough, air—onough | I have already heard iF too much,”. cried Lady Saxondale, starting up litile regard for decency, virtue, and teal prudence, fi as to offer to become. this young’ man’s mistress. | from her seat: fot.shs saw that thore was now no Yes--this she dif in langtage gi and warm; | altervative but to meet tha affair with a brazen ani sho appeared to think that she only. to. make the proposition in onde to have it at dnce | to bid defiance to all rhenaces and to all hostile pro- accepted. But this lady has grown up: daugh ceedings. ‘One word mere, madam,” gaid Mr. Gunthorpo, whose manner seemed to be invested with an autlo- ritativenvss irresistibly powerful, and which despite the resolve to which she had just come, exercised ite influence over Lady Saxondale. ‘You possess two daughters—two grown-up daughtere—young women indeed of a marriageable ago, and for whom you aré doubtless anxious tp seck befitting alliances. Consider, madam, the demoralizing example which your conduct is but too well calonlated to set thew. Think you that if you push the present deplorable incident to the uttnost extréme, nothing will trans- pire detrimental to yourself? Yea—believo me,y'!l the world will put faith in Vijiliam’ Deveril’s story in proferencé to your own;.an erdict of a jury should stamp you asa calamniatrix, it will by the same decision proclaim you to be nothing more than a demirep. Then, madam, what will become affurde@: and yet in her foolish infatuation, and. blinded by her passion, she offers to become the paramour of this young man whose personal beauty has arouscd her desires. He rejects the proposal in terms of forboaring gentleness,ut with loathing and abhorrenco in his heart. Commiserating this lady who has so far forgotten herself in her unfoituna® pas- sion, he is even generous enough to proinise the conceaftment of her folly—or shall I say her wicked- ness? But she menages him with a terrible ven- geance. He leaves her with sdrrow in his heart that so much depravity can exist, masked by a heauty of the grandest and most lofty character; and hv hopos that her repentanco may enable him {0 throw the veil of secrecy over what has occuged. But’ econccive what his feelings must be when he discuvers that this lady, too faithful to her threatened plan of vengeance, deliberately and purposely calls | of your daughters ? will their mother’s evil reputi- upon her acquaintances and friends in order to pro- | tion. accelerat® their chances of forming suitably pagato a tale entirely to the projudice of this young | and proper matrimonial connexions P And your man.” son too, over whom, as I understand, your autho- Mr. Gunthorpe ceased speaking—but continued rity evon at present is by no means well established, to look very hard at Lady Saxondale, from whose countenance indeed he had not. oncd removed his. eyes during the whole time he was delivering that sion for Deveril and your licentious overturcs, va a reagon. why he should become moro obedient ? Think of all this, Lady Saxondale, ere. you precipi- tate matters to an irrevocable extreme. At present natural strength of mind and her proud assurazice, } | you may privately repair the injury dono to Deveril sho wincod at his words—writhed under his narra- tive as he developed it—oxpeiianced an increasing confusion—and showed consciouss guilt in overy lineament of her countenance. “LIr, Gunthorpe,” she said, with « daiepirats effort to resumo her self-possension, “it would be worse than childish for mo to affect ignorance of the allusions you have beon making. But, sir,”— and she folt her fortitude revive as she went on you to be compelled to recant your allegations, cun- nation for your sudden hoatility towards him ; but ten: thousand times werse will it be if in a-court of | justice all the details of the case are brought to lighs.° Now, madamy, for the last time, what is your decision ?”. me—if you dare put sich. version upon whatso- | “I have nothing more » to gay, sir,” responded — ever passed between. Mr. Deveril and thyself--I | Lady Saxondale, despbrately qinging tegbe resolve must denounce you as @ calumniator and must order | sho had already furmed, and ¢o meet alles” you from my presence!” quences with a brasen effrontery. “If I howd | “Be it as you will, madam,” said the old gentle: listened to you so long, it is, I repeat, out of respect from his seat and taking tp his broad- for your age" hat from the chair on which hé had depo-| “No, Lady Saxondale,” observed Mr. Gunthorpe, | ing by his look that be could read to the depths it in companionship with. his géld-heasled | eho as plainly as the«aye can penetrate ‘cane, “But perhaps you .aré not: awate of the r course which it will be ee beaks to take under ex- through a crystal streamlet to its pebbly bottom : isting ciroimstances? Lady Raxindile, ‘I am a| “ jon have been isiflucciood by no such generous rich man--and for no . woulkt’ I sooner itis. | mative, I ie fear, Lady Saxondale—ferr that hes }| Fepeas; deapite the powerful efforts which you have we | exbeted and are still exorting 10 conquer the senti- ment! But I will intrude no longer.” _ At this moment the door opened from the landing, and Lord Saxondale otitcred the rom. He was lounging in ‘with that fashicnable affectation of lan- % —will he regard the exposure of your gruss pus- | in those quarters where you have privately inflicted | it. I know that it will be gall and wormwooil for | effrontery—to take a bold aud desperate stand—and | oc wee. eee ee: ee oe ie eee eee Le Ce Ge eS Eo. {ees that they were calumnics, and give bame expla- wade ‘you Heten to me to the onf’@—ges, fear I | COMIC OOO© SS (CO)