The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 232: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERIES. texsated fesling on the part of her Royal Highness her intended husband would persist in seeing naught eave the most unpardonable solecisms with regard te etiquette. But no pen can depict his horror, amazement, and disgust, when the well-meaning and artless Ceroline seized an opportunity to whis- per in his ear the promised communication relative to the Countess of Jersey t The fact was that her Royal Highness had been wwer-tutored by Malmesbury. One of his lessons was that if she ever became aware of any of the Prince’s intrigues, she must be cautious not to ex- hibit the slightest jealousy ;— and thus the inex- perienced Princess was now hurried by her good intentions into the calamitous fault of proclaiming to the Prince ts words that forbearance which, if ehe were disposed to show it at all, should only have been displayed in conduct. And the Prince himeelf was too narrow-minded in his genteel fasti- Jiousnees to understand or appreciate the generous porpose which his intended wife enterteined—and too deeply prejudiced against her to pardon the oungling fashion into which her very innocence and inexperience hurried ber when desirous of manifest- ing that purpose. The incident, therefore, only tanded to enhance his disgust at her manners, con- duct, and style of conversation ;—and these deepening impressions of disfavour were by no means counter- valanced by the improved opinion he was compelled co form in respect to her personal appearance. He drank copiously to drown thought; and the Prin- cess, with her natural quickness perociving that he was addicted to the bottle, found herself rapidly becoming more aod more disenchanted with re- gard to the first gentleman and most polished Prince in Europe! The dinner was over—the guests were retiring— Caroline of Brunswick had withdrawn to her own spartments—and at length the Prince of Wales found an opportunity of speaking a few words in private to his royal mother. Conducting the Queen to the farther end of the superb saloon where the evening had been passed, he said in a low deep tone, “ Your Majesty can now express an i opinion upon the Princess !” 2 9 “George, Lam sick at heart—no—that is not the feeling,” exclaimed Queen Charlotte, with a concentrated bitterness in her accent and an almost fiend-like expression in her looks : “but I am devoured with rage and indignation to think that you should be thus sacrificed! It is all your father’s doing—and you know he is as obstinate as Satan himself. I warned him against this alliance | —I implored—I threatened : but all was unavail- | ing—and now my worst fears are confirmed. Caro- | =e ee a line is not a fit wife for you—and the marriage will be an unhappy one !” “Why did not your Majesty warn, implore, and threaten me, instead of my father ?” demanded the Prince, his words and looks both expressing the bitterest sarcasm. “ Methinks that I was the principal person to whom you should have deigned ; the revelation of your real sentiments: but I never a even knew that your Majesty had objected to this match until this evening.” “ And who told you so, George?” exclaimed the Queen. “Your manner towards the Princess made me ' eonfirmed the fact.” 0 TE Sas cetera e-aggeiiinte SoG ESP eaee 219 “Yes — Lady Jersey and myself had a few minutes’ conversation together after dinner,” ob- served the Queen, looking her son very hard in the face, as if to ascertain how much the Countess had really told him: then, perceiving a sardonic smile to wreath the Prince's lips, she said hastily, “ But I suppose that whatever I did state to Lady Jersey will be made known to you within an hour or two—and therefore I may as well give you the explanation myself. I told her, then” added Queen Charlotte, a sinister gloom lowering over her harsh and disagreeable features, while her voice sank at the same time to the lowest pos- sible whisper,—“I told Lady Jersey that hence- forth I would be her friend if she would continue to be your friend! And more than that, I assured her that when the storm should come—that storm which is inevitable—I would take her partand your part, whatever may betide.” “Ah! then your Majesty already anticipates a domestic convulsion at Carlton House?” said the Prince, still with a concentrated bitterness in his tone: “and you are preparing in time for the part you shall play when my wife and I go to logger- heads? That is the plain English of it—and much plainer English indeed than I am usually accustomed to speak.” “Put what construction you please upon my conduct, George,” observed the Queen, after a few moments’ consideration: “but let one thing at least be engraven on your memory—and let it serve as the text for all your self-communings at a future day |” “And that one thing?” demanded the Prince, surveying his royal mother with mingled interest and curiosity. “ What is it?” “That in me the Princess Caroline has a bitter and an unforgiving enemy,” rejoined the Queen, the words hissing snake-like through tho lips that were white and quivering. Bad and unprincipled as was the heir-apparent —heartless, cruel, and selfish as his disposition might be—he was nevertheless struck with a species of horror at this cold-blooded announee- ment on the part of his mother. A man may be a murderer himself, and can yet think well of human nature generally: but if he saddenly finds out that his own mother is a murderess—the being who possesses the prestige of all-excelling good- ness in his eyes—his confidence in everything human is annihilated in an instant. Thus was it with the Prince of Wales. His own mother had suddenly thrown off the mask and revealed herself to him as a fiend in female shape;—and he gazed upon her in mingled horror, wonderment, and distress. But she darted upon him a look full of contempt &8 much as to imply that even yet he did not half comprehend the true meaning of the words to which she had giveu utterance: then, quitting him abruptly, she retired for the night. CHAPTER CLXXVIIL THE DISGUISED ONE. Ws must now retarn to the Countess of Des. borough and Miss Plantagenet, who quitted tho sponging-house together in the manuer already : a eS a cee SA a A A SS CONNEC OOO SS a -