The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 7 — page 21: what you’re looking at

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

a EEE EE OL TD oR eR ey Me =u ca TS NCIS er me OO a ee ee er oe = ee eg Soe ee EE ae ape eee oe ee - as = ww o 10 But there was one stipulation which she posi- tively laid dowd. It was now the close of April, 1828: upwards of a couple of months must elapse THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. {instant was approaching when Eliza, now Duchess ‘of Marchmont, was to bid adieu to her father and ! until the two years should be completed since her | father’s written pledge to Bertram Vivian that | under certain circumstances the engagement with him sbould be renewed; and though the afflicted Eliza entertained not the faintest hope that there was the possibility of augbt occurring, or of a miracle being wrouht, to give scope for those cir- cumstances, it nevertheless secined ao supersti- tiously sacred duty that the full time should run out. And it required also two cumplete months to finish the year since the intelhgence had reached her of Bertram’s death; and though circumstances had prevented -her {rom wearing sable garments as a tribute to” his memory, her heart at least re- quired the completion of a year’s mourning——a mourning, however, that she knew would be eter- nal! Her stipulation therefore was that tho bridal- day—the day of her momensc self-sacrifice —ahould not be fixed at any date earlier than the month of July. To this her futher readily promised concur- her relative, and accompany her husband to which- soever of the country seats it was where the honey- moon was to be passed —but which the young bride knew not. She was even ignorant of the very nates of them all. Retiring from the breakfast- table, she sought the chamber where her maid was in readiness tu assist her in making the requisite change in her apparel for the journey ;. and it ee enone CT TT ATS ST RED, 4 va, Weveaemen, 4 —_ —e— eee = a eee ee - struck strange—almost unnatural to. Eliz&’s ear . when she was addressed as “your grace” and “my lady.” fer toilet being finished, she repaired to a parlour where she knew, according to an intimation given by her maid, that her father wished tv say a few words to her in-privats, and bestow without restraint the last embrace before she was separated from him. There she found the old mau in a state of happiness strangely blended with « nervous excitement —but assuredly rence: the principal point way gained—and that was sullicient. The interval passed far too quickly for the afflicted Eliza: but outwardly she suffered no traces of her soul’s utter despair to present them- solves. She had inate up her mind to aelf- immolation: she resolved that her martyrdom should excruciate only herself. Sho felt that she had no right tv suffer the Duke to perecive that not with grief at the prospect of parting. Not but that he loved bis daughter dearly, as the reader well knows: bis pmde however was too hiyhly gratified - lis relict’ from cares on account of her tuture welfurc, was too complete—and perhaps his satistaction at the result of his plans was tuo full, to leave room for aught savouring of sorrow. Only that nervous excitement was blended, ‘ada surt of alluy, with his other feelings; and this she was @ victim: neither did she wish to mar the , happiness which her father was now expenencing in the last daya of his existence. Ju short, she armed herself with a preterhuman courage; and but for the paleness of ber cheeks and the slight the unsophisticated Eliza tovk for the tinge cf gricf whieh it wus natural to suppose that he ex- perienced, but which he really did not feel. “My dearest gurl,” he said, clasping her in his ars, “your beauty and your worth have raised deepening af the air of pensive sadness upon her ' countenance, ha one could have told that another dagger had been driven into her,ulready too crucily wounded heart. On the 10th of July, 182A. the marriage was solemnized, with some devreo of privacy, and only in the midst of a seleet emrele,- none of the Duke's relatives being present. His Grace had ms own reasons for not imviting to the bridal those who were most nearly alhed to him; inugouch as his marriage waa a fatu) blaw-—or at leayt nnyght prove so, if blessed with issuo—to all who would profit by, his death if he remaimed single. And Captain Lacey: hed his own reasons likewise for encouraginy the Duke im the idea of private nuptials: but what these reasons were, he explained not beturehand to his daughter. Sho herself asked no questiuns. she knew not even the names of the Duke's relatives, nor who they were: she sought to know nuthiug more than circumstances brouzht to her knowledge *—and this knowled;re was limited tu the fact that he on whom she bestowed her band was the Duke of Marchmout, and that she was now a Duchess. CHAPTER (IL, THB DUCHESS OF MARCHMONT. TXs cereniony was over—the wedding breakfast, given by Mra. Bailey, and which was of a most e -~—— = ee ~ ~— you to the highest pinnacle. Once more— and for the last time—must 1 allude to something con- nected with the past.” Here the Duchess shuddered as if with a glacial chill shooting through ber, althouzh it was the suliry month of July. Her ,ale countenance became paler; and ber his: was instinctively placed upon her heart —fur there was Bertram Vivinn's ring concealed ! “Only a Jew words,” said Captain Lacey quickly -—-for ho saw this emotion and comprehended 1t. “You now belong to another: you are the bride of a nobleman whose honour is unimpeachable, as his rank is lofty and his wealth immense. I need seareely tell you, Eliza, that he knows nothing of the puot ; and if you be wise—if you be prudent— if indeed you wish to be kid and considérate towards him, you will cherish that as your own secrct or rather forget that 1t ever was!” ‘1 “cannot, father,” said Eliza, in a low deep vice, ©] cannot forget it! But, as you have observed, it 1s my secret—and it shall remain so. Lit me relieve you of all apprehension on that heal. Iam now the Duke’s wife? I compre- hend all that is becoming on my par? in my new position, I should feel honoured and flattered by his preterence of me, did I possess a heart still capable of being moved by such feelings: but at ‘least I shall be careful nat to wound nor shock my husband by suffering bim tu know that I, have loved another--that I cannot love him —that the \ I } power of loving a sccond time is dead within me ““ Doarest daughter,” exclaimed Captain Lacey, “Tam delighted and distressed to hear you speak splendid description, likewise reached an end—the thus !—delighted to find that you so admirably ap- en are CO (C NOOK 22 eee ee ee ES ES ET EE A = eee eee een eee ry eg a eT a TT I a CO