The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

C377 SE SS eT SS Sf a ede THE MYSTERIES OF THE COURT. ‘ i ° preciate the duties of your new position—distressed ! blessing attend thee as a talisman to k to think that the memory of the past is stiliso mind thus firm—thus nerved!” strong within you.” The young Duchess was to 9 certain extent © “ Father,” replied Eliza, earnestly, “ distrees not | struck by her father’s look, manner, and words, yourself on my account. It is done: I am re-! which appeared somewhat singular: but Mrs signed, if I be not contented. No—distress not | Bailey entered at the moment to announce that the yourself: but God grant that all possible happi-:| carriage was in readiness. She embraced her sire ness may be yours for the remainder of your | again—-she embraced her relative also; and then days!”—ahd as she uttered these last words, tears | issuing forth, found her husband ready to escort trickled slowly down the pale cheeks of the Duchess | her to the magnificent equipage. of Marchmont. And now she was seated by that husband’s side “ Eliza, my darling!” said the old man, much | in the carriage with ducal arms emblazoned on the moved ; “let me see you exercise a becoming for- | panels, symbolic of the almost princely rank to . titude !” which that day she had been admitted asa partner. “T am strong—and [ am calm too again, | The four horses, guided and urged along by tho father,” responded the Duchess, wiping away her | two expert postilions, dashed through the streets; tears. “ What other counsel have you to give mie | and in a short space London was left behind. ere we separate ?” Eliza,—while responding with that pensive sweet- | . “Only a few words more,” resumed Captain | ness which had become habitual to her, to the re- Lacey. “Y might say much—I might tell you | marks which the Duke made,—revolved in her many things—but the timo is too short now—the | soul all the details of the parting counsel which carriage is at the door—your ducal husband is | her father had given to her; and it was noé very waiting to bear away his beloved bride. And | Jong before her presence of mind and her fortitude moreover,’ continued the old man, with an in-{ were put to the test. For in the course of an crease of that nervous excitement which his daughter | affectionate and endearing speech, the Duke gave mistook for sorrow at the approach of the parting | her to understand that they were on their way to moment, “it would arouse too many painful feel- | the most splendid of his three country-seate—that ings—too many sad recollections. But yet, my | it was situated in Hampshire—and tbat ite name darling daughter, there are a few words which | was Oaklands. must bo spoken. You may perhaps shortly hear| A glacial thrill shot through her like an electric names mentioned in your presence, which will | shock at the mention of that name: but she was vividly recall that past to which I have alluded. | so completely on her guard, that her countenance You may discover too, that your marriage has | betrayed naught of what was agitating within. In given you connexions which-——But no matter! | case howe¥pr that it shonlll, she looked from the It is only a single word of parting advice that I | window for a few moments, as if contemplating have time or fortitude enough to proffer; and that | the scenery by which they were passing: but she is to conjure you to be upon your guard, so that | gazed on vacancy. Oakiands !|—that was the whatever you may hear shall not lead you to be- | country-seat to which Bertram Vivian had ree tray to your husband that you were at one time | paired when he parted from her at Oxford; and it the betrothed of another.” belonged to the family of which he himself was a “Father,” replied the Duchess, with a glacial | scion. How, then, could it now be in the posses- - firmness of tone and a statuc-like immoveability | sion of the Duke her husband? | of features dnd of form, so that not a muscle of | ‘We shall be there,” continued his Grace, her countenance was stirred by affliction, nor the | “ completely by ourselves at first; and this seclu- folds of her splendid scarf agitated by the bosom’s | sion, my beloved Eliza, I hope will not prove dis- heavings,—“ you have seen with what fortitude | agreeable or monotonous.” I have passed through tho ordeal of this day’s “Nothing, my lord,” she answered, with her ac- ceremony: you have seen likewise that by my | castomed sweet amiability, “that is consistent with conduct I have never once given the Duke of | your will and pleasure, can bo objectionable to me.” Marchmont ground for the supposition that he is “Thanks, my sweet Elisa, for that response :” an object of the merest indifference to me. By '—and her husband pressed her hand to his lips. all this let my future conduct be judged: by what | “In due time you will be introduced to the other | Iam, you may estimate what I shall be. Yes— | members of the family—or rather they will be pre- I am firm. My destiny is fixed—and I accept | sented to you: and then we will have a gay com- it. Even if he whose image is dearer to me than | pany at Oaklands. Your father and Mrs. Bailey I can express, were by a miracle to be brought ' shall join us; and my own sweet Eliza shall do the back to life—were he suddenly to stand befure me | honours of the house of which I am proud and SO —I feel that Fam nerved with the courage | happy to make her the mistress.” #€ may be of despair—but nevertheless it 4s the' The Duchess gave a suitable response; and as courage that alone is adequate to support me even ' the journey was continued, the discourse was con- through such an ordeal as that. Now, father, are tinued also: but nothing more was said by the you satisfied ?” | Duke to put his bride’s fortitude and presence of Singular and incomprehensible was for an in-. mind to the test. Yet Oaklands—that name of stant the expression which flitted over the old Osaklands—kept agitating in her brain. She longed man’s features: the next moment it was succeeded to ask her husband how 1t was that this estate had by one of gladness, indubitable—unmistakable ; : fallen into his possession—but she dared not; and and straining his daughter to his breast, he ex- | as he said naught upon the subject, ahe supposed elaimed, “I thank thec, beloved Elies, for these he either took it for granted that she was already assurances. Go, my darling: the moment is cbme informed thereon, or else that he esusidered it to for us tu separate! Go: and itty a father’s be a matter of but little moment. 8 enngnaean «ba apibesmimaGyre - * 6 -aew” ° meme ee eR 8 8 ie tw Oe ee ee ee 8 ee re ee Bee Om. nee a oe eet Oe. ens ee a oe Oe -— 2 eee eee eee DOOKS,. COL COMMIC