The Mysteries of the Court of London, Vol. 7 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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energetically fn Sa nn Sannin anneal THN MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. Iike geal and obedience in the performance of ‘opportunity for explanations? Nee ab 8 vour duties. ‘he -Foreign Office is much pleased with you; and I shall ask that you be appointed Knvoy to one of the minor Courts. It is a proud thing for you, Bertram, to reflect that when only a few months past your twenty-third year, you will be an Ambassador! Or if you like to go to Parliament, I can put you in for one of my pocket- boroughs at the next general election.” “My lord, I, would much rather Jeave England again as 600n he possible.” “Well, we shall have plenty of time to talk it over: for I mean you to stay a few weeks with up, now that you are here. Your brother, Lord Clandon, is expected in a few days; and we have a select*perty at Oaklands.” “J should now wish to retire to my chamber,” said Bertram. “The roade are dusty “To be sure!” cried the Duke: and ringing the bell, he ordered the domestic who answered the summons, to show the Hon. Mr. Vivian to his apartment. “And it is time,” suid Eliza, after a pause, during which Bertram with a slight bow had quitted the room,—“ it is time that I should dress for dinner.” e In a few minutes the Duchess was alone in her boudoir. This meeting with the loved one—the one who was still eo dear to her—had been almost fhore than her fortitude could bear up against. Throughout the ordeal she herself was astounded at her own soutage in eupporting it: that she was alone in her boudoir, her feelings | those checks all the more visibly. She threw herself’! quisite classic profile-- the haughty curl of the upper | lip—and the god-like nobility of the e'abaster tould no longer be restrained. upon her knees—ber anguish burst forth—the tears gushed in fountains from her cyes—her | bosom was convulsed with sobs, “O father, fatber !’” the voice of ineffable agony | fection. went up from her heart, as she thus apostrophized her dead parent: “you knew not the misery you were entailng upon me at the time! But if from the mansions of tbe other world it be given to the spirits of the departed to look down at what is passing in this, you can now understand it all! May God forgive you, father even as 1 have forgiven you!” When she grew somewhat calmer, the Duchess of Marchmont reviewed the detafis of the meeting which had just passed. While Bertram was an- aweyging his uncile’s observations, he had spoken with a cold firmness, and without even so much as solved not te trust herself alone wet: ivian. Rather—ten thousand times reli set even under the wei ight of his injurious, muspitions, | if such’ he entertained,—than do aught. earn might savour of impropriety in her position: ry wife, or lead her to even an unfaithful | | unduteous word with regard to her huaband. bud that he did entertain those suspicions, ahe War more than half afraid: for there waa a pride—a certain cold assertion of manly dignity, in the way in which he had mot her. Why then had he come to Oaklands P—was it to upbraid and reproach her? was it to demand the roturn of the ring which he had given her, and to restore the one which be had received from herself The Duchess of Marchmont saw more than ever the necessity of exerting all her fortitude. She did ber best to assume her wonted outward calm- ness; and she bathed her eyes copiously to efface the evidences of weeping ere she summoned her aids to assiat at hor toilet. When this toilet was completed, she repaired to the drawing-room, where she found the Duke in conversation with the assembled guests: but Bertram was not there. It was nt until within a few minutes of the dinner- hour, that he made his appearance. How band. some did he look !—but not finely and majestically handsome—it was rather a delicate and intellectual but still masculine beauty which characterized him. But the ez- brow, with the raven curls clustering around it,— rendered that head a model of sculptural per. His movements were slow, -yet not slug- gish: they were replete with east and elegance: but they, as well°as the expression of hia coun- fenance, indicated to observers generally the thoughtfulness of bis mind—and to Kliza alone the existence of a deep, incffuble, imperishable sorrow in his heart. His voice waa, 49 it were, clouded from the samo cause--but full of a fine wasculine harmony; and when, as he glided with ease into tho discourse that was progressing as he entered, a smile appeared upon his lips, it wae @ cold glacial emule, resembling the light which the eun flings upon icc.‘ When dinner was announced, it beeame Ber- glancing towards herself: but when he had said , tram’s duty,—as the last male comer, and like- that he was anxious to leave England as son as possible, he had spoken with an emphasis which she could full well understand. Ob, why had he come to Oaklands at all? wherefore cause them both to rym this tremendous rick? Did he sup- pose that the Duke was acquainted with the cir- cumstance of their love? No—it was impos- sible: for if so, Bertram would not have paid this visit. The natural delicacy of his feelings would have kept hip eway:—but how was it that his pride had not also kept him away? Did he sus- pect hnw she bad been deceived and sacrificed ? or did he fancy that she had wilfully proved f{aith- less to her love fof him, and dazzled by the proffer of a ducal at, had bestowed her hand upon his p all these matters Eliza was in a state of the utmost uncertainty. But could her acubts be cleared up * must she seck or afford an wise as a relative—to escort the Duchess to the bangueting-room. It was only with a cold cour- tesy that he approached ber: with the same cold reserve did she bow slightly as she took his arm: but not with more airy lightness sits the butterfly upon the flower, than Iny the fingers of Kliza upon the arm of Bertram Vivian. As they headed the procession to the banqueting-room, Bertram spoke of the weather, of the beauty of the grounds, and of the most indifferent topics. It was the same ashe sat on ber right band at the dinner-table; and when he took wine with her, the bows that were exchanged were the merest and the slightest inclination of the head, withoys a muile upon either countenance. All was chilling and distant between them. ue the dinner away}; and every. otfe, ven excepting the Dike hint self, bad noticed that ‘thore wae @ strati,¢ fussm NOG There was no colour upon his cheeks; and | but now | his plossy dark whiskers throw out the paleness of SS